


High Crimes

by angstytimelord



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Prison, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:32:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 46,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1410049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstytimelord/pseuds/angstytimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a new lawyer who seems to have his own reasons for wanting Hannibal behind bars takes over his case, Will has new hope for the future - and finds himself falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Behind the Wheel

Will stared uncomprehendingly across the table at the man who claimed to be his new lawyer, wondering just how this had happened. He hadn't _asked_ for new representation.

He almost couldn't piece together what the man was saying; he heard the words, but the questions in his mind overrode them to where they didn't make any sense. His name was Everett Hobbs? He was related to Abigail? And didn't think that Will had killed her?

Will shook his head, feeling bewildered and overwhelmed. "Wait, wait. Start over at the beginning, please. I'm not getting all of this."

The man sitting across from him sighed softly, then folded his hands on top of the table and began over again, his tone patient and forbearing. "Will, my name is Everett Hobbs." The soft voice, the British accent, washed over Will like a flood of warm water. 

That had to be the most pleasant voice he'd ever heard. He wanted to bathe in it, drown in it, let it overwhelm his senses and lull him into calm tranquility.

He sat up straighter, focusing on Everett's face, concentrating on his words.

"I'm a cousin of Garret Jacob Hobbs, the man you killed a few months ago." Everett leaned forward, his pale blue eyes focused on Will. "I don't blame you for killing him."

He continued, his voice still very soft. "I know what he was. I know that he was a killer. I didn't know what he was doing when it was going on, but I knew, from the little time I'd spent with him over the years, that he was .... unbalanced. I'm not surprised that he was a murderer."

Will nodded, indicating that he understood what Everett had said thus far. Well, here was one person who seemed to have a little sense in this crazy world.

"I don't believe that you killed Abigail, either. Or those other people you're accused of murdering. In fact, I _know_ you didn't." Everett's voice was firm and strong, his conviction undeniable. This man actually _believed_ in Will's innocence. That much was obvious.

It was more than his so-called "friends" had given him, Will thought, wincing. They were all so willing to just go along with Hannibal, to throw Will under the bus.

They actually _believed_ that he was a killer, that he was evil.

Yet this man, someone who didn't even know him, was convinced of his innocence. He was already warming to Everett, feeling that this man was someone he could like.

Everett continued, his voice calm. "Don't ask me how I know just yet, Will, please. But I do. Not just because I don't believe that you're a killer now that I've met you face to face, but because I've had some experiences of my own that I believe will unmask the _real_ murderer."

Will perked up at that; his brows rose, and he leaned forward, his intense blue gaze fixed on Everett's face. "And what are those experiences, Everett?"

But the other man shook his head, looking regretful. "I can't prove anything yet. I don't have any concrete evidence, other than what I saw. I'll be told that I can't be sure of it, given that I'd taken a blow to the head. But I _know_ what -- and who -- I saw. I'm sure of it."

"And you think that this person who did whatever it is that you saw is the Chesapeake Ripper," Will said, his tone thoughtful. "Well, this is .... interesting."

Could this man help him? Or was it just more mind games?

Everett didn't seem like the kind of person who played those kinds of games. He appeared to be as far from Hannibal as anyone could get.

He was certainly a lot more attractive than that ugly reptile who had framed him and put him behind bars, fighting for his life, Will thought to himself. Everett was one of the best-looking men he'd ever seen, he didn't look at all like some stuffy, uptight lawyer type.

Will couldn't stop his gaze from resting on the other man's mouth. Everett had the most incredible lips he'd ever seen. Lips that practically begged to be kissed.

What was he thinking? Will raised a hand to rub at his eyes, wondering why his mind had wandered along that path. It wasn't like he'd ever been attracted to men.

But apparently, he was now. Well, he'd had a few same-sex crushes in high school and college, though he had never followed through on them. Maybe he was just feeling this way now because of being in prison. But the attraction felt like more than that.

There was a definite physical pull towards Everett, and he had to wonder if the other man felt it, too. It was too strong to be simply a one-sided infatuation.

Judging from the way Everett looked at him, he felt something, too.

"Will, I want to help you." Everett's voice was soft, but the words were strong and firm. "I believe that I can. At least, I hope I can. Please let me try."

Slowly, Will nodded. What could it hurt to let Everett try to help him? He seemed to be thoroughly convinced that Will was innocent, and he _needed_ to have someone on his side who apparently had such a strong belief in him.

No one else did, that was for sure. His FBI-appointed lawyer was half-assing it; that had been clear from the start. That idiot would lose the case, and not care.

But _he_ cared. This was his _life_ they were playing with, and other than Everett, nobody really seemed to care about that. Even the people who claimed to care about him were all willing to throw him under the bus, and dance to Hannibal's piping.

Well, he wasn't going to let that happen .And if Everett could help him, then he'd acquiesce to whatever this man wanted to do, as long as he walked out of here a free man.

He had nothing to lose if he agreed to let Everett help him.

"I'm more than willing to let you try," he said slowly, keeping his gaze focused on Everett. "I just hope you can. The person who framed me did a really good job of it."

"I know they did," Everett murmured, a frown passing over his features. "But they didn't close up all of the loose ends as well as they might think they did. I think I can pull some strings and send their little house of cards tumbling to the ground."

"I hope you can," Will muttered, looking down at his hands, clasped on the table in front of him. "Because if you can't, I might end up facing the death penalty."

"It won't come to that," Everett said, sounding firm and determined. "If you're convicted -- and I'm absolutely certain you won't be -- the death penalty won't be granted. There are too many people who would want to study you, to get into your mind and discover how you think."

"They should be trying to do that to the person who actually did this," Will said, raising his head to look the other man in the eye. "He's the psychopath. Not me."

Everett's gaze met his, steady and unwavering.

Everett _knew_ , Will realized. He _knew_ that Hannibal Lecter was the killer. Will had no idea how that could be, but he knew that Everett was aware of the fact.

Whatever connection Everett had to Hannibal, it obviously wasn't a pleasant one. It was obvious that Everett had some agenda -- and as long as it meant putting Hannibal Lecter behind bars where he belonged, Will would go along with it, and help in any way he could.

"I know you aren't," Everett said softly, his gaze never leaving Will's face. "Believe me, I do. And I'm going to prove it, Will. I'm going to set you free, and clear your name."

Will sincerely hoped that could be done. He wanted to believe that more than anything.

He wanted to trust Everett, _needed_ to trust him. He needed to believe that this would work out, that Everett would prove his innocence and get him out of here. From now on, he would put his trust in this man. He had nothing left to lose if he did.

"Then I guess you've got yourself a client," he said, his voice very soft, a smile curving his lips. "You're in the driver's seat now, Everett. Here's hoping you can navigate the road."

For his own sake, he hoped that Everett would be capable behind the wheel.


	2. Personal Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is ever just black and white, and for Everett, this case is a swirling mix of grey areas.

This case wasn't going to be simply black and white.

Everett frowned as he went down the front steps of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, his thoughts still in the building with Will.

He _knew_ that the young man he would be defending wasn't a murderer. He liked to think that he could read guilt in people's faces, in their eyes. And there was nothing guilty about Will Graham. He couldn't have committed those murders. He wasn't that kind of person.

Everett knew that everyone had a dark side, but he didn't believe that the darkness in Will's psyche had come out in that way. No, he had been framed. That was obvious.

It had been a very good set-up, but Everett was sure that he could see behind it -- and he was sure that he could prove it had been a frame job. There had to be a way to do so; the FBI wasn't even attempting to prove Will's innocence. They were ignoring crucial evidence.

Those people had supposedly been Will's _friends_ , he thought in disgust. Some friends, since they were willing to throw him under the bus.

Didn't Americans know how to do their jobs?

No, it wasn't that they didn't know how, he amended. It was that they didn't want to. They could have even been told by the bigwigs in the FBI that they shouldn't, that this would be a good way to get rid of someone they considered a maverick, someone who was, well, _different_.

He knew about Will's empathic abilities, of course. And he couldn't help thinking that someone who was very uncomfortable with them wanted Will out of the way.

He was here to keep that from happening, Everett told himself firmly. He wasn't going to let Will be given a sentence of death -- or let him rot away in a jail cell, or in an insane asylum, for the rest of his life. Will Graham deserved much better than that.

This case was much more than just the open and shut, black and white trial that the FBI was trying to make of it. Someone wanted Will dead, or at least incarcerated for life.

Everett intended to prove who that someone was, to expose their evil to the world, and to make sure that they took Will's place behind bars. He wasn't going to stop until he'd accomplished that goal; he had his own reasons for wanting to do so, very good ones.

But those reasons were in the background, at least for now.

His main objective was to make sure that Will Graham was released, and that his name was cleared. Will _would_ be a free man, exonerated of any crime.

Everett was sure that the FBI was part of the frame-up; he didn't believe that it could have been executed so perfectly without some collusion somewhere within the ranks of the authorities. Someone was working with the real killer, someone who feared and resented Will.

Well, he would prove that, too -- and he would make sure that the people who had conspired with the killer were behind bars, right along with him.

Everett didn't know just how he was going to do that. But he knew that he would, whatever he had to do. He would gain Will his freedom -- and prove him innocent.

The one thing he knew for sure was that Will Graham was _not_ a killer. He could see innocence in those extraordinary blue eyes -- innocence, along with anger that he had been so unjustly imprisoned. He knew that Will's resentment was growing.

And who could blame him for that? Everett thought. No one would want to be incarcerated for crimes that they hadn't committed, forced to pay for someone else's sins.

If he had his way, Will wouldn't be there for much longer.

There was so much more to this case than met the eye; he had known that when he had first heard of what was going on. He'd made sure that he would be accepted as Will's lawyer before he'd come to the States; he wasn't going to let the FBI shove him away from this case.

Everett didn't doubt that he would have to work hard to unravel this tangle; someone -- or several someones -- obviously wanted Will to suffer for their crimes.

But he _would_ untangle all of this and free Will, no matter what it took. And, if he was very, very lucky, he would also be able to have his own revenge as well. No one had to know that he was personally involved in this; that was his secret.

He had lost all that was dear to him, lost everything that had meant the most in his life -- and the person who he knew was behind these murders would pay dearly for that.

All of his investigations, all of the careful work he'd done to piece two and two together over the past five years was finally coming to fruition. Being able to save Will Graham from a fate that he didn't deserve would only be a very sweet icing on a delectable cake.

But none of it would be easy. Not at all.

He would have to find proof that the person he thought had done all of this was actually behind it, and he knew from experience that they didn't leave clues behind.

But somehow, some way, he would find some. He would get to the bottom of this, and he would set Will free. He would link this case to one in the past that had affected him personally, and he would finally see his nemesis -- and Will's -- put behind bars for the rest of their lives.

Just the thought of that made Everett's full lips curve into a smile, his pale eyes narrowing as he thought. He already had an idea of where to start.

This case was far from black and white -- there were so many shades of grey involved here that he would have to be careful not to lose himself in the mists. Nothing was ever just black and white -- everything had its grey areas. But this case had more than most.

Still, he _would_ get to the heart of it all, and he _would_ put the man responsible behind bars. He'd make sure that Will Graham was exonerated.

He'd do whatever it took. It was his own personal mission.


	3. Seeing Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett has an unexpected encounter when he goes to consult with Will in prison.

Everett almost jogged up the front steps of the Baltimore State Hospital For the Criminally Insane; he'd gotten a late start to the day, and he wanted to make up for it.

He was anxious to see Will, to talk to him, to start their consultations. He wanted to lay all of his evidence in front of the young man, and to see if Will had anything that could add to it. He was ready to get the ball rolling that would free Will from his prison cell.

He _would_ get Will out of jail, no matter what it took. He had spoken with Jack Crawford about some evidence that could free Will, and things looked promising.

From what Jack had said, the killer they had been assuming was a copycat had made the mistake of using fishing lures in his rituals that had been attributed to Will. It was fairly obvious that Will hadn't made those if they were still being used by a killer.

Jack had made a halfhearted attempt to postulate that Will could have a partner in crime, but Everett could tell that he didn't believe his own words.

Will would be out of jail soon, Everett promised himself. Very soon.

As Everett approached the top of the steps, the doors opened and a man came out -- a man who Everett recognized, and the last person he wanted to see.

He hadn't been face to face with Hannibal Lecter before, but he knew the man. He knew him from pictures, as well as from reputation. And he knew him from that horrible night in his London flat, when he'd seen that profile after Hannibal had committed a horrible atrocity ...

All he wanted to do was lash out, to plant his fist squarely into that hideously ugly, death's-head of a face, and send Lecter tumbling to the bottom of the steps.

Preferably with a broken neck, he thought savagely. But that would only cause him to be put behind bars in the same place where Will was incarcerated, and that wouldn't do. No, he had to rein in his temper, control it and look towards the future.

He would have his vengeance, and Lecter would be behind bars, where he belonged. He couldn't do anything to jeopardize that vision of the future.

And at this point, he doubted that Lecter even knew him.

When he took his revenge, he wanted Lecter to know exactly what he was paying for. Not only the deaths of who knew how many people, but one person in particular.

"Hello, Counselor." Hannibal had stopped in front of the door, effectively blocking Everett's way in. "I assume that you are visiting Will Graham, to begin your campaign to set him free." His brows rose, his expression questioning. "I hope you manage to do so."

 _No, you don't_ , Everett thought in disgust. _You made sure that Will was put here, to take the blame for the crimes you yourself committed._

But he didn't say those words aloud; instead, he only inclined his head as though he was merely wishing the other man a pleasant good morning. "Yes, I'm here to talk with Will," he said, keeping his voice level. "I didn't realise that you knew I'd taken on his case, Doctor. Lecter."

"Oh, I make it my business to know all about Will Graham's case," Lecter said smoothly, his dark gaze never leaving Everett's face. "I was quite surprised that you would defend him _pro bono_ , Mr. Hobbs, given that he killed a relative of yours."

"Will did what he had to do, to keep Garret from murdering his daughter," Everett said briskly. "I don't have any anger towards him for doing what was right."

"Yes, it was the right thing to do." Lecter cleared his throat, the corners of his lips quirking in a wolfish sort of smile as he regarded Everett. "And now he himself is accused of killing her. A rather strange turn of events, don't you think?"

Everett wanted to snarl at the hideously ugly man standing in front of him, to tell him in no uncertain terms that he _knew_ Will Graham was no murderer.

But he couldn't do that. Not yet. It wasn't the right time.

Oh, sooner or later he would let this monster know that he'd been discovered, and that there would soon be enough proof to put _him_ behind bars for life.

But not now. Not yet. He had to gather that proof, and add it to the evidence he already had -- which was considerable. He'd kept it to himself for a very long time, rather than play his cards too soon and have the way forward blocked by a very clever killer.

He wasn't going to let Hannibal Lecter get away with what he'd done, either in the past or in the present. He was going to see that the bastard paid for his crimes.

Just looking at that death's-head of a face made him see red. In fact, he felt as though he was looking at the other man, his nemesis, through a red haze of anger that could quickly turn into unbridled rage if he didn't keep a tight rein on his emotions.

Everett took a deep breath, forcing a smile to his face. "Yes, it's an odd turn of events. But I don't believe that Will Graham is a killer, Dr. Lecter. And I don't think you do, either."

There. Let the murderous bastard chew on _that_ for a while.

"I'm sure that we'll run into each other again, Mr. Hobbs." The voice was smooth and silky, with a heavy accent. He hated that voice, as well as that ugly face, Everett thought.

"I'm sure we will. Good day, Dr. Lecter." Everett turned and went into the building, trying to keep his anger from showing on his face. He was sure that Lecter had been here to see Will, to gloat over the young man's imprisonment, to pour more poison and lies into his ear.

The fact that Lecter was even allowed anywhere near Will made him see red. But he had to let that haze of anger lift before he was in his client's presence.

Everett had to stop before he went through the doors, taking a few deep breaths and waiting until he felt less angry. He didn't want to talk to Will when he felt like this; he wanted to be clear and focused when they were speaking about the case, to concentrate on the here and now.

Seeing red wasn't going to do either of them any good, he told himself firmly as he pushed open the doors and entered the building. Even though at the moment, it was bloody hard for him not to.


	4. Time To Stop Talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is curious as to Everett's underlying reasons for being so eager to prove his innocence.

"So, Will, we need to get started." Everett sounded cool and businesslike as he glanced up at Will, taking a folder out of his briefcase. "I know the particulars of the case."

Will shrugged, sighing softly and looking at his hands.

He didn't want to answer. He didn't want to talk about the case; it should be obvious to anyone that he'd been framed, that the evidence was just too convenient.

"Then you pretty much know everything you need to know, don't you?" he asked, his voice flat. "You've got all the so-called 'evidence,' even though none of it is true. I didn't kill anybody. I've said that from the beginning, but I've been set up so well that no one believes me."

" _I_ believe you," Everett told him, leaning closer to Will across the table. "I've believed you from the start -- well, since I first heard of the case, anyway."

Will felt a rush of hope, a churning inside him that almost felt as if it was rearranging his internal organs from their usual places. "What makes you believe me?" he asked, taking care to keep his tone neutral. He didn't want Chilton -- or anyone else -- to see that hope.

"The fact that I know something of your adversary," Everett told him, his tone also even and calm. "The one who yoy say framed you and actually committed the murders."

"You've had experience with Hannibal Lecter?" Will couldn't keep the surprise from his voice.

"Yes, I have." Will noticed that, for some reason, Everett was keeping his voice pitched very low -- didn't he realized that Chilton was listening to all that they said?

He glanced up at the wall, scowling at the small monitor there. Chilton made no secret of the fact that he monitored all conversations between his patients -- _inmates_ , Will thought with an inward snort. He wanted to rip that monitor away, as well as the microphone.

He had no privacy here. He and Everett couldn't talk about his case without Chilton knowing every word they said -- and probably giving those words to Hannibal.

There was no way to keep their conversations private. Not here.

How in the _hell_ could he and Everett work out some way of bringing Hannibal to justice if that snake knew every word they were saying?

Will sat back in his chair, taking a deep breath. He needed to relax. Everett had dealt with cases like this before; he wouldn't be here if he hadn't. He would know what to do, and how best to go about this. He had to let himself trust Everett, to give him the reins.

"We have to prove that he framed you," Everett said, his words succinct. "That's the only way we're going to get a jury to believe you."

"Do you think I haven't thought of that?" Will asked with a sigh. "I don't know how to go about doing that. I know what he did. The memories are there. But I can't prove it."

"Then we have to find a way to prove it, Will." Everett frowned, his gaze focused on Will's face, intent and penetrating. "We have to find some way to point the finger of blame at him. We have to _prove_ to all those other people that he's as evil as we know he is."

"How do you know that he's so evil?" Will asked, frowning at Everett. There was more to this man' than met the eye. He was sure of it.

He wanted to know just _why_ Everett was so eager to prove his innocence.

Will had no doubt that whatever Everett's past experience with Hannibal was, it hadn't been a good one. He wouldn't be here if that was the case.

"Suffice it for now to say that I know," Everett answered, his tone crisp. It was obvious that he didn't want to talk about his reasons for being here, for defending Will, and for obviously disliking Hannibal. But Will was determined that he'd ferret them out, sooner or later.

After all, he had to trust Everett, didn't he? And if he was going to put all of his trust in this man, he had to know just _why_ he was here.

He leaned forward, his gaze capturing Everett's and holding it.

"Can I trust you?" Will asked, the words blunt and forceful, though they were spoken quietly. "I want to. I just want to be sure that I'm doing the right thing."

Everett nodded slowly, reaching out a hand to lay it on top of Will's. "Yes, Will, you can trust me," he said softly, not relinquishing the other man's gaze. "I have my reasons for being here, some professional, some personal. But I assure you that they'll help you in the end."

Will nodded slowly, satisfied with that answer for now. It wasn't the time to push Everett for more answers, even though he was still curious.

"Now," Everett said, sounding more businesslike than ever, "the way for us to get started is to stop talking, and start doing. And the only way that we're going to do that is if you give me all the information you have as to how you came to be here. Tell me everything, Will."

Will took one deep breath, then another. He had to talk to Everett, had to trust him with everything. He had to tell this man about his dreams, about his memories.

It wouldn't be easy, but he would make himself do it.

Everett was on his side. He knew that. He could read it in this man's eyes, see it in his expression. This was a person who would fight for him.

That was what he needed at this point -- someone who was behind him in every possible way. That horrible FBI lawyer hadn't been; she had just wanted to throw him under the bus, and the other one had only cared about winning the case. Not about his innocence.

Everett, for some reason, actually seemed to _care_. This wasn't just about winning the case for him. There was something more. Something personal.

Whatever those reasons were, if they helped him, then he was willing to embrace them.

Everett was right. It was time to stop talking and start doing. And once they had talked, hopefully they'd have some sort of plan to put into motion.


	5. Careful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett knows that he'll have to be very careful to carry out his mission of proving Will innocent and Hannibal guilty.

Lecter had certainly been busy lately.

Murdering a judge, then a bailiff -- Everett closed his eyes for a moment, wanting to get rid fo the vision of the judge's body as he'd seen it.

He had no doubt that Lecter was behind the murders. Why, he didn't know -- but it seemed that the man was angry about Will not being freed. If that was the case, then he wouldn't have to be angry for long, Everett told himself. _He_ would get Will out of jail.

And he would prove that Will wasn't a killer. He didn't know just yet how he would trace the murders back to Hannibal, but he'd manage it somehow.

He'd been busy himself over the past few days. He had watched Hannibal's home, following Lecter when he left late at night twice. But the other man had managed to elude him both times; Everett was becoming terribly frustrated at his inability to pin anything on him.

But then, he _was_ getting closer, wasn't he? he thought with a soft sigh. He had managed to become Will's lawyer, and that put him right in the middle of things.

He _would_ free WIll, and prove Lecter's guilt.

Of course, it wasn't going to be easy. He'd known that from the beginning. Lecter was wily and thorough; he wasn't going to leave any loose ends hanging about.

Lecter had been doing this for a long time, and he was good at hiding the aftermath of his crimes. Everett doubted that he would simply be able to follow the man and catch him in the act; no, Lecter was much more careful than to allow himself to be discovered so easily.

But had he _known_ that he was being followed, or had he merely taken precautions to elude anyone who might possibly be doing so?

Everett frowned at that thought; it hadn't dawned on him before.

He'd thought that Lecter had merely managed to lose him because the other man knew the city streets so much more intimately than he did, but maybe that wasn't the case.

Maybe Lecter had been taking extra care not to be seen because he had somehow _sensed_ that he was being followed. Everett thought that he was good at tracking, but the last few nights had proven him wrong about that.

He would have to hide himself more carefully the next few times he followed Lecter; if the other man could sense that he had a tracker, then he could discover it.

And Everett knew that if he was discovered, his life wouldn't be worth much.

If he was caught, he would no longer _have_ his life.

Everett had no doubt that if Hannibal Lecter knew the real reason he was here, why he had become Will's lawyer, he would be the Chesapeake Ripper's next victim.

Lecter was a killer; he knew that. He just wished that it wasn't going to be so hard to prove that fact; almost everyone here seemed to believe that Lecter was some kind of hero. He had spun his web well; he hadn't left any loopholes that secrets could fall through.

But he _would_ find any crack that existed in Lecter's barriers; he _would_ prove Will innocent, and Lecter guilty. If it was the last thing he did.

That thought made Everett shiver with apprehension.

If he wasn't extremely careful, it _would_ be the last thing he did. Lecter would kill him as easily as he had all of those other people. He would be just another victim.

And no one would know that it was Lecter who had killed him, just as no one had known -- or would have believed -- that it was Lecter who'd killed before. Though this time, Will couldn't be blamed for the killing; he was behind bars, and safe from any more suspicion.

Everett couldn't hold back a smile at the thought of Will; the other man seemed to be holding on as best he could, given where he was, and the stress he was under.

Will was the strongest person he had ever known.

He needed to get busy preparing a defense -- this wasn't about him, after all, Everett reminded himself. It was about Will, about proving that he was innocent.

If only he could use Lecter's past against him! But no one knew about what he had seen on that night five years ago, that deadly night when his life had been so completely altered. And no one would believe him if he tried to expose Lecter for his part in it.

Lecter had been a busy man in the last five years, murdering wherever he went. Everett had no doubt that it wasn't only the Chesapeake Ripper murders that he was responsible for.

No, Lecter would have murdered many, many more people than had been laid at the Ripper's door. He was that kind of killer -- remorseless, completely without conscience. And worse than that was what Everett was sure he did with the body parts he took as trophies.

If those body parts had never turned up, then he could only speculate as to what had become of them. And his conclusions sickened him.

But he was right. He was sure of that. More sure than he'd ever been of anything.

He had to be right. He was sure that Will would be able to confirm it, with those strange visions of his. He just had to find a way to talk to Will without Chilton recording them.

How could he manage that? Everett was sure that he would find a way, even if it meant bribing one of those dour guards. For enough money, they would do him a favor; he just didn't like the fact that he would then feel as though they could hold something over his head.

Somehow, he'd find a way to talk to Will openly, without being spied on. A way would turn up; one always did, when a person looked hard enough for it.

He'd have to get busy finding that, as well as with everything else.

They had a long road ahead of them. Everett didn't doubt that. But he was determined to exonerate Will, and to put Lecter behind bars in his place. If anyone richly deserved to lose their freedom and their reputation, it was that smug bastard.

He'd make sure that happened, even if he was busy proving Lecter's guilt for the rest of his life.


	6. Hidden Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will contemplates what Everett's reasons for taking his case could be -- and his own reasons for the attraction he feels for his attorney.

He couldn't stop thinking about his lawyer.

Will sat in his cell, head down, hands clasped in his lap. He was usually quiet, but today, he was lost in his own thoughts, and wasn't making the slightest sound.

Chilton was probably watching him on his monitor, wondering what he was thinking about. Well, let him, Will thought, not raising his head. Chilton couldn't know what was in his kind; that was the one thing that he could manage to keep secret from those prying eyes.

What would his jailer think if he knew that Will was thinking about his attorney? He had to smile at the image of Chilton's face when he digested that knowledge.

Chilton would never expect him to feel an attraction to a man. Hell, he hadn't expected it himself, though he had never discounted the idea that he could be. He'd always thought of himself as being bisexual; he could fall for either sex.

But he'd never told anyone that, and he was sure that it would shock Chilton -- and anyone else -- to know that he had stirrings of desire for his attorney.

God, Everett was handsome.

Will felt a pull towards the other man unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He hadn't expected that, and he'd wanted to fight against the feeling at first.

But now that they had talked a few times, he was no longer resisting the attraction; rather, he was letting himself enjoy it, to sink into it. He couldn't stop that spark from being there, so he might as well accept it, give in to it, and let the feeling overtake him.

What exactly drew him to Everett? He couldn't really say, but it wasn't just that the other man was one of the most attractive people he'd ever seen. It was something more.

There was such an .... _intensity_ about him.

Whenever he thought of Everett, pictured the other man in his mind, there was tightening in his gut, a tingle in his belly -- and in lower parts of his anatomy, as well.

He _wanted_ Everett. That seemed amazing, but it was true. He actually wanted the other man in a sensual way, a way that he'd never wanted anyone before. He'd been attracted to other people before, but never with this kind of burning desire.

What was it about Everett that brought out such a desire in him? Was it the combination of the good looks and the intensity, or was there still more to it?

Whatever it was, Will wanted to explore the attraction more deeply.

But that was impossible when he was stuck in here. He wanted to rage against the fate that had brought Everett into his life when he was in such an awkward position.

If he was a free man, then they could enjoy the courtship rituals -- going out to dinner, having drinks, their first kiss. But when he was in prison, it was impossible to get any privacy to even talk about how he felt, or to ascertain whether Everett might be attracted to _him_.

Will was sure that Everett _did_ feel an attraction. He could read it in those pale eyes, see it in the way that Everett looked at him.

Everett _wanted_ him. Will could read the desire in his gaze, more plainly than if the words had been spoken aloud for the world to hear.

And he felt the same. He wanted Everett. He might never have been with anyone before, but he knew desire when he felt it -- and this could be nothing _but_ desire. Good old-fashioned lust, that had taken hold of his mind and body.

But was it simply lust -- or something more? He didn't want to think that it was just desire, something that would burn out as quickly as it had sparked to life.

No, it wasn't just lust. There was more to it than that, much more.

He felt some kind of kinship with Everett, as though the two of them had been forged from the same steel. There was something about the man that felt .... _safe_.

And it wasn't just because Everett was obviously so eager to help him. No, it was the undeniable feeling that he and Everett shared something, that they were brought together by fate. He couldn't shake that feeling; it was burrowed deep within him.

What was it about Everett that drew him so inexorably? What was it that they could possibly share, other than an obvious hatred of Hannibal Lecter?

Everett had to have some kind of association with Hannibal, even though he hadn't admitted to it. Will had to find out just what that association was, or he would never feel completely at ease with Everett. He wanted complete transparency between them.

He sighed softly, fixing an image of Everett's face in his mind. Would it be probing too deeply to simply ask Everett just what his past with Hannibal was about?

It somehow seemed like a violation of privacy, but he _had_ to know.

He didn't doubt that there was some hidden reason that Everett had taken his case pro bono. Some reason for him to want Hannibal behind bars.

Could he have possibly lost a friend to Hannibal's machinations? A client? Someone he'd cared for? That had to be it; there wouldn't be such fire in his eyes when he spoke of Hannibal being here behind bars rather than Will if he hadn't suffered some personal loss.

Whatever that loss had been, Will felt for him, and he respected his lawyer's feelings. But he felt as though he needed to know everything that was involved in this situation.

Whether Everett would tell hm was another matter entirely.

The intensity that burned in those eyes excited him, made him want to know Everett better. Intimately. It made him think of what it would be like to be .... sexual with Everett.

What would it be like if they could manage to be together, physically, here in this place? What would it feel like to be pushed up against one of these stone walls, taken, pulled out of himself by his desire for another man, even a man who he barely knew?

Will shivered at the thought; he couldn't keep the images out of his mind of the two of them together, in this hopeless place, bringing a spark of hope and life into it.

That was what he needed to hold on to, he told himself firmly -- the hope that he and Everett might have a future together once he got out of here. He didn't doubt that he _would_ get out -- he had confidence in Everett, belief that the other man would find a way to free him.

If anyone could find proof that he didn't belong here, it was Everett. The determination in those eyes told Will that he had the right person on his side.

He _would_ be a free man again. Everett would see to that.

He had complete faith in the man who was now his attorney. Everett had proven to him that he could do the job, and that he was on Will's side.

Together, they would find a way to get him out of here, and then they would work towards making sure that the _right_ person was jailed for the crimes that he was accused of committing. They would put that Lecter snake away for good.

Will didn't know how that would happen, but he was sure that it would. He had the feeling that together, he and Everett would be an unbeatable team.

But first, he had to be taken into Everett's confidence about his past.

Will didn't know what might lurk in that past, but he was sure that it had something to do with Hannibal, and with his predilection for killing. Whatever it was, he knew that it had affected Everett terribly, and that he had a need for revenge.

A need that probably matched Will's own.

He didn't want to smile at that thought. He didn't want to feel that something as terrible as a deep personal loss could have brought the two of them together.

But it seemed that might be the case, and if it was, then he would accept that. Whatever was in Everett's past, whatever his connection was with Hannibal, Will wanted to know about it, and he wanted the two of them to make amends for that past.

Once that had happened, then they could start exploring this attraction to the full. Will had no doubt that they would act on it -- and for him, the sooner, the better.

The very thought made his heart race with anticipation.


	7. Drown in His Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett can't get Will's intense blue gaze out of his mind.

Those eyes were _so blue_.

Everett couldn't get Will's eyes out of his mind. All he could think about was how blue they were, like the sky on a clear and cloudless day.

Or like the ocean that stretched to an equally blue horizon, he told himself. He couldn't pull his gaze away from those intensely blue eyes whenever he and Will were talking; all he could do was stare into them, and feel himself falling into their cerulean depths.

Those eyes even haunted his dreams, Everett thought ruefully. He hadn't been able to get a night's sleep without dreaming of Will ever since they'd met.

Those eyes seemed to follow him through his dreams, as though Will was somehow watching him. It was as if the other man was _there_ , looking over his shoulder, a palpable presence even when he wasn't near in terms of distance.

Everett wished that Will wasn't still stuck in that horrible place that constituted prison, a place that could suck the life and soul and hope out of anyone.

He hated knowing that Will was there, behind bars.

He didn't belong there. Lecter did. Lecter should be the one to lose his freedom, the one who was having his reputation savaged, his life torn apart.

Will didn't deserve all that was happening to him. But Everett was determined to turn things around, and to make sure that nothing like this ever befell Will again. He _would_ exonerate Will, once and for all, for the world to see.

And if they happened to come together as a couple as a result of him freeing Will from the injustice he was now suffering through, then so much the better.

That was one of his ultimate goals, wasn't it?

He didn't just want to get Will out of jail, prove his innocence conclusively, and put Lecter behind bars. He also wanted to start a relationship with Will.

He hadn't realized that until he'd seen Will in person, and had spent a bit of time with him, Everett told himself. But now that he knew Will a little better, he almost felt as though he'd become obsessed with the young man, with the idea of them being together.

He'd never met anyone quite like Will. He'd certainly never met anyone who stirred him so much, who he was this physically attracted to.

Everett pushed the memory of his late fiancé out of his mind. That had been over a few years ago, when Damian had died. There was no use thinking of the past.

Will wasn't Damian. He never would be. Will was his own person, someone new and different in Everett's life. Will was the future, not the past -- a future that he wanted to look forward to, with nothing of the past clouding the path that his heart was taking.

No, he wasn't going to let himself get the two men confused. They were very different people, and they were each in a different part of his life.

He wouldn't let his past love affect his future one.

It startled Everett to realize that he was now thinking of Will and using the word "love." He might not have said it aloud, but the emotion seemed to be there.

How could he know that this was love? It was attraction, even infatuation; he had no doubt of that. But love? Could he feel love for someone this quickly, someone who he barely knew? Or was he merely at the point where he was mixing attraction with something deeper?

He hoped that wasn't the case; he didn't want to believe that this was merely lust, and that it could cool as quickly as it had flared into life.

He'd have to tread carefully, and keep examining his feelings.

At the moment, he wasn't sure whether those feelings were love, or simply lust. He wanted Will, that was one thing he knew for certain.

But as for the rest, he couldn't be sure, not until they knew each other a great deal better. He was willing to cautiously tell himself that this could be love, or at least an attraction that could develop into love, into something deep and lasting.

Every time he looked into those intensely blue eyes, he felt as though he was drowning in them, and that he never wanted to come back up for air again.

Those eyes mesmerized him, made him want to get lost in them. How many other people had looked into Will's eyes and felt that way about him? Everett was sure that other people had fallen under their spell; those eyes were too compelling for anyone to ignore.

Or was he the only person they spoke to so eloquently? He hoped that was the case; he didn't like the idea of anyone else wanting Will in the way he did.

He was honest enough to admit that he wanted Will all to himself.

Everett sighed softly, looking at the papers in front of him. He'd wanted to study the case more before he talked to Will again, and he'd been right to do so.

He was sure that he saw an opening, and it had nothing to do with Will supposedly being "insane" from the encephalitis he'd suffered from. No, this was a loophole that he was sure the FBI had seen, but had chosen to ignore, instead deciding to throw Will under the bus.

They wanted someone blamed for these murders, and they didn't care if it was the right man or not. They just wanted a scapegoat.

Well, Will wasn't going to fill that need for them.

He didn't yet know just how he would get Will out of this, but he would. He'd find a way. It was imperative that Will be exonerated completely.

After that, they would see what happened between them. It would be too hard to try to start any kind of a relationship while Will was still behind bars; he had to be completely focused on getting Will out of there, and put his personal inclinations aside for the time being.

But once Will was a free man, then they could indulge themselves. Then, they would be able to throw all caution to the winds -- and meet each other as equals.

He would be able to gaze into those blue eyes and see just what he wanted to see.

Just thinking about those eyes now made a shiver run down his spine; he was eagerly awaiting the day when Will would walk out of prison a free man, and into his arms. He knew that day would get here; it was only a matter of time before his dreams became reality.

Everett couldn't wait for the time to arrive when he could drown in those eyes again.


	8. Infinitely Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett knows that he shouldn't let himself fall for a client. But that knowledge isn't stopping him from doing just that.

Will's eyes were so infinitely blue.

Everett had a hard time looking away from those eyes whenever their gazes met across the table. He wanted to stare into those blue depths all day, to drown in them, to let himself fall into those twin cerulean oceans and never come up for air again.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking of those gorgeous blue eyes for the past few days, and now that he was looking into them, he never wanted to look away again.

What was wrong with him? It was horribly unprofessional to feel this way; he couldn't let himself fall for a client, no matter how appealing they might happen to be. He couldn't lose sight of his goal, which was to get Will out of jail.

And, of course, he couldn't let any feelings he might have get in the way of his ultimate desire: To see Hannibal Lecter put behind bars forever.

But when Will fixed that infinitely blue gaze on him, he was helpless to think of anything else except how attractive the young man sitting across from him was. In spite of the unflattering orange jumpsuit and the chains on his wrists, Will was still the most appealing man he'd ever met.

He wanted to lean across the table and ....

No, he had to stop thinking about kissing Will, Everett scolded himself inwardly. This was going to get them nowhere. It wouldn't help achieve their objective. Thinking about kissing Will wasn't going to clear his name and get him out of here.

He cleared his throat, wondering if Will had noticed that he kept staring at his mouth and then into his eyes, unable to force himself to look away.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Will asked, his voice very soft. "I can't figure out what it is about me that you're apparently so fascinated by. You've got to have seen a lot of people in prison orange, so it's not like I'm making any great fashion statement."

Everett swallowed hard, debating how he should answer.

Should he tell Will the truth -- that he thought he was becoming infatuated with his client, imagining that the two of them could have a future together?

Or should he merely make something up, and brush off the fact that he very well _could_ be letting himself fall for the man who he was defending? It wouldn't do either of them any good for him to tell the truth, not as long as Will was behind bars.

But once he was out of prison -- and Everett had no doubt that he soon would be -- then their future could well come into full bloom.

That was what he wanted, Everett told himself. He wanted that future with Will, or at least the chance for one, no matter how cloudy and uncertain it might look at the moment.

"I ...." His voice trailed off before he finally decided that the truth was the best thing to say, regardless of how it might make Will feel, and how it could change the dynamics of their lawyer/client relationship. "I enjoy looking at you, Will. You're a gorgeous man."

Will's blue eyes widened at those words, as though he was shocked by what Everett had just said, before he smiled and laughed softly, shaking his head.

"I'd look a lot better out of the regulation prison orange," he said softly.

"I think you'd look gorgeous no matter what you were wearing," Everett said softly, uncertain of just where the words came from. They were out before he could hold them back, but he felt no compunction to stop them from being said.

Maybe it was about time that Will knew how he was feeling. Maybe there was no reason to hold those emotions back; he should simply let them go.

If Will didn't feel the same, then that was something he would have to deal with. But if he did .... well, if he did, then there could be hope for some kind of future. Everett hoped that was the case, but really, it was far too soon to count on anything like that.

He had to concentrate on getting Will out of this hellhole first.

The look in those infinitely blue eyes made Everett swallow hard; if he wasn't mistaken, Will was just as interested in him as he was in Will. There was no mistaking that expression; Will's feelings for him were just as intense as his own.

Why hadn't he noticed that before? Or had Will been careful to hide it, thinking that such feelings would do neither of them any good in their current situation?

Well, he was wrong, Everett told himself. At the moment, they might not be able to do much of anything to assuage those feelings, but once Will was out of prison, he had no intention of holding back, or waiting to let Will know exactly how he felt.

He didn't doubt that those feelings would have grown even stronger by that time. They seemed to grow by leaps and bounds with each passing day.

Every time he saw Will, those feelings grew stronger, threatening to make him throw caution to the winds and do something that could get them both into trouble. He might be removed as Will's counsel if it were known that he was developing a personal connection with his client.

Neither of them could afford for that to happen.

"We have to wait," he said softly, focusing his gaze on Will's face and hoping that he couldn't possibly be overheard if he spoke in a bare whisper. "This isn't the time."

"I know." Will's voice was equally soft. "But when the right time comes, I think we'll both know where we stand. And what's more, we'll both know what we want." Those infinitely blue eyes locked with Everett's again, not looking away, their scrutiny intense.

Everett couldn't help himself. He reached out to take Will's hands, though he knew that they couldn't let themselves touch for more than few seconds.

For now, that brief physical contact would have to be enough.


	9. Forward Momentum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is clinging to the hope that he and Everett will have a future together once he's a free man.

He really shouldn't think of being with Everett.

Will sighed and opened his eyes, gazing up at the ceiling. There were times when thinking about Everett felt as though it was the only thing that was getting him through the day in this place; if he didn't have that, he would go absolutely stir crazy.

Did Everett think about the two of them being together, too? Will was sure that he did; he had noticed all of the lingering looks that came his way.

They'd turned a corner today, one that he knew they couldn't back away from. They had moved forward from simply being a convict and his lawyer, into something much more personal. Now Everett wasn't just fighting to free a wrongfully imprisoned client.

They had crossed a line into something much deeper than they should probably be getting themselves into, but Will knew that he couldn't stop that forward momentum.

What was more, he didn't _want_ to stop it. He wanted to move forward into a future with Everett, a future that didn't include Hannibal Lecter, or the FBI, or anything that he was currently dealing with. He wanted to turn his back on all of this.

He wanted to forget the past, and concentrate on the future.

Will sighed again, closing his eyes in an attempt to block out where he was. He couldn't very well put all of the unpleasantness behind him while he was still in jail.

Okay, so he was in a mental facility. It might as well be jail, he thought with a soft snort. He had lost his freedom, his privacy, and everything else that really mattered to him. He had no job, and he might very well not have a home to go back to if he was in here long enough.

Hannibal Lecter had taken everything from him, Will told himself. Everything. But what that monster hadn't taken away was his pride, and his sense of self.

Amazingly, being in here had given that back to him.

When he had first been taken to the Baltimore State Hospital For the Criminally Insane, he had thought that it was possible he belonged here, that he might have killed Abigail in one of his blackouts, and that he deserved to pay for that crime.

He had been so lost, so unsure of who and what he was at that point. Thanks to Hannibal's mind games and machinations, he had come to doubt himself.

Btu that was no longer true. He had gained crystal clarity here in the isolated state he was kept in; he'd come to know just what Hannibal had done to him, how calculatedly his downfall had been planned out. He had discovered just how much of a monster Hannibal was.

He would have his revenge. Somehow. When he got out of here.

Everett would help him with that -- and then, the two of them would have their future together. No matter what Hannibal might do, he couldn't stop that from happening.

The only way he could stop that was by killing one of them. The very thought made Will's blood run cold. It would be so easy for Hannibal to go after Everett, and even though he knew that the other man would be wary of Hannibal, Will wanted to warn him.

Everett didn't need to be warned about how manipulative -- and how dangerous -- Hannibal could be, Will assured himself. He would be cautious, and stay safe.

But he still couldn't help worrying. Everett might know a lot about Hannibal, but he'd never had to deal with that snake up close and personal before.

Or had he? Will's blue eyes snapped open again, then narrowed as he searched his memory. Everett was very close-mouthed about his past, and about just _why_ he seemed to have hold such a grudge towards Hannibal. There had to be some past history there.

He wasn't going to ask about it, at least, not openly. But Everett knew pretty much everything about his own dealings with Hannibal; turnabout _was_ fair play.

After all, Everett _was_ his lawyer. He had a right to know.

Not only was Everett his lawyer, but he was also the man who Will was interested in, who he wanted to have a future life with. So he _did_ have a right to insist on knowing about Everett's past, no matter how painful it might be for the other man to discuss it.

There was some kind of heartbreak there. Will could see it in those pale eyes. Those eyes held a plethora of secrets, and he hoped that one day he would discover them all.

His own secrets seemed so small compared to what Everett probably had in his past, Will reflected. His secrets amounted to nothing, really. He didn't have any that he would keep from Everett. He would let the other man know everything there was to know.

He just hoped that Everett would grant him that same privilege.

If not, then it proved that Everett didn't trust him. Though there wouldn't be any reason for him not to do so, Will thought with a frown.

Being together depended on trust, as well as .... love. The word came unbidden into Will's mind; he didn't want to use it yet, wasn't ready for it. Love was a word that he would be cautious before he uttered it, even though he was sure that he _could_ feel it, in time.

He was already attracted to Everett, already falling for him. Could love be far behind that attraction? He wasn't sure, but he wanted to find out.

What they'd have in the future remained to be seen.

Just thinking of a future where he and Everett were together made Will's heart beat faster; he could feel a rush of pure adrenaline course through his body at the idea of being with Everett physically, of being free to indulge all the fantasies he'd had about his lawyer.

Maybe it was wrong to feel that way, but he didn't care. Everett was the person who was going to take him away from this hell he was living in at the present, and give him a future.

Will intended to reach out for that future with both hands, and to hold onto his firmly once it was within his grasp. Nothing was going to keep him from being with Everett; the only thing that stood in their way now was the fact that he was still behind bars.

But he'd get out, he told himself firmly. He had to believe that Everett would find a way. He had to keep faith with the man he wanted to spend his life with.

For some reason, Everett inspired a confidence in him that no one else had ever done. No one who had called themselves his friend in the past had done as much for him as Everett had; no one had ever lifted his spirits when he was down, or given him hope for a happy future.

He wasn't going to let anything extinguish that hope.

He had to hold on to that hope, to the knowledge that there was a future for him and Everett together waiting for him when he walked out from beyond these four walls a free man.

Will turned his head to look at the bars on his cell, wishing more than anything that they would suddenly melt away and he could walk out of here -- and directly into Everett's arms. Right now, that was all he wanted, and all he could think about.

He had to hold on to that dreams, and believe that it would eventually come true. That hope for the future was the only thing that seemed to be keeping him going at this point.

He'd cling to that hope with all of his strength, and believe in their forward momentum.


	10. Eggs in One Basket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett is reaching for any straw that he can grasp at to get Will out of jail.

Hannibal didn't seem to have confined his murders specifically to the area he was in. That wasn't surprising, Everett thought, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

He didn't really need to wear the glasses, unless he was reading or working on the computer. But he liked them; they made him feel more intellectual, and there were times when he needed that feeling, especially when he was feeling as frustrated as he was now.

He couldn't come up with one single thing that he thought would help Will. Not one. Lecter had covered his tracks too carefully, and gone to ground all too well.

There wasn't one shred of evidence that pointed towards him.

But Everett _knew_ that the man was guilty. He had personal experience of just what Lecter was like, of the horrors he could perpetrate without blinking an eye. He had no doubt that Will had been framed; he just didn't know how Lecter had done it.

 _Think, Everett,_ he told himself sternly. Lecter had been a physician. Could there have been some way for him to set Will up by using that sort of knowledge?

The most damning evidence appeared to be the fact that Will had coughed up Abigail's ear. Everett frowned as he studied the statement Will had made; he had no idea how that could have happened, as he didn't remember actually _eating_ part of a human being.

Everett didn't think he had, but that evidence couldn't be denied. It seemed to be incontrovertible proof that Will had indeed murdered a young girl.

Unless .... Everett frowned, searching his memory for some piece of information that would make this all fall into place more easily. Unless that "evidence" had been _put_ there during one of Will's blackouts, perhaps? Knowing Lecter, that was all too plausible.

It took a moment, but the idea burst upon him in a sudden flare of clarity.

Lecter could have waited until Will was having one of his blackouts, and used a feeding tube to get that ear into Will's stomach. It would have been all too easy to victimize a man who was unconscious; he would never know what had been done to him.

But there _was_ a way to prove it. Will hadn't been in jail that long; if he _had_ been intubated, there would be scratches on his larynx, however minute they might be.

Those scratched could only have been caused by a tube being forced into his throat. He could insist that a doctor examine Will, that x-rays of his throat be taken. And if they already had been, then those x-rays could be examined for scratches.

It ws a slim chance, but it was something.

He would have to argue to have those tests done, but he would make sure that they were. Anything that could be used to get Will out of jail was worth a try.

And besides, the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that it was the truth, and that was what Hannibal Lecter had done to make sure that Will would be accused of Abigail's murder. He had practiced medicine in the past; such a thing would be child's play to him.

The question that loomed so large in Everett's mind was just _why_ Lecter had chosen Will as being the person he wanted to frame for his crimes.

Did Lecter have some kind of unhealthy obsession with Will? It certainly seemed that way, especially since the bastard was now paying Will visits while he was incarcerated.

According to Will, Lecter wasn't coming there to gloat, but to extend an offer of "friendship" and offering to "help" him. That thought made Everett snort in derision; the man who had framed Will for his own crimes and put him in jail now wanted to "help" him?

Just what kind of sick game was Lecter playing? And how was he going to be able to protect Will from the evil that Lecter represented?

He didn't know at the moment, but he would find a way.

He wasn't going to let Lecter get anywhere near Will once he managed to get the young man out of jail. He would do whatever it took to keep that monster away from the two of them. Everett scowled as his hands clenched into fists; he could feel the frustration building up inside him.

Lecter seemed to be widening the area he killed within; if he had followed Will to Minnesota, and killed her there, then he was branching out.

No one was safe from that murderous monster, Everett thought with a shudder. No one. There was no way of knowing where Lecter would strike next, what innocent life he would decide to take. All Everett knew was that it _would_ happen.

Lecter was addicted to killing. He couldn't go for long without taking a victim.

Everett didn't doubt that for a moment. He might not be an expert on serial killers, but since his own brush with Lecter five years ago, he had studied up on them. He had familiarized himself with their patterns, and he was sure that Lecter would never stop.

His hands shook as he thought about the past, casting his mind back over what had happened so long ago, though it felt as though it had just taken place yesterday.

Closing his eyes, he pushed those memories away. This wasn't the time to think of the past. Right now, he had to concentrate on the present, and on Will's situation. There was time enough to indulge in memories when he was in bed at night, alone with his thoughts.

For the moment, he had to turn his thoughts to where they could do the most good -- and that was helping Will. He had to focus on that, and nothing else.

The past was over and done. He couldn't change what had happened; he could only look back at it and wonder if he could have managed to change anything. Everett let out a soft sigh, opening his eyes again as he focused on the papers on the desk in front of him.

Yes, this was the next angle he had to try. Lecter's medical knowledge.

With any luck, this might be what could prove that Will hadn't killed Abigail. It might not be conclusive proof, but it would certainly raise more than reasonable doubt.

If he could do that, then there was a good chance that Will would go free. And that was his goal, after all. It didn't matter how that was achieved, as long as he got Will out of prison and exonerated him. This was as good a chance for that as any.

All he had to do was have a doctor examine Will, take some x-rays, and argue that this raised a great deal of doubt as to whether Will had committed murder -- or been framed for it.

He wouldn't point a finger at Lecter. Not yet. He didn't have enough evidence for that. But he would manage, somehow, to point out that Lecter was the only person who would have had access to Will during one of his blackouts to plant that so-called "evidence" through intubation.

Everett smiled grimly. This would work. It had to. It might be their only chance.

If it didn't, then he was fresh out of ideas. He had racked his brain, combed through every shred of evidence they had that might point to Lecter in some way. This was the best thing that he could come up with; they'd have to put all of their eggs into this basket.

He just hoped that those eggs wouldn't break and end up all over their faces.


	11. To Protect and Preserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett is becoming more and more frustrated with the fact that everyone seems to be against Will.

How could that idiot of a judge have dismissed their evidence?

Everett was fuming as he walked out of the courtroom; Will had already been taken back to incarceration, and he didn't know if he would see his client again today.

He wanted to scream, to punch the walls until his hands were bloody. It was so obvious that some people in the FBI were utterly determined to use Will as a scapegoat, even when the evidence didn't point to him. They wanted him out of the way, gone, forgotten.

Now that they'd been able to use Will's empathic ability to their advantage, and they'd gotten all they wanted out of him, the FBI simply wanted to get rid of him.

Well, he wasn't going to let that happen, Everett vowed.

Will deserved better than the treatment he'd gotten at the hands of the FBI. He wasn't a toy to be used and then thrown away when they were done with it.

That woman who seemed so intent on not only locking Will up, but giving him the death penalty for a crime he hadn't committed .... Everett's fists clenched when he thought of her. She was bloodthirsty; she was out to see someone die, so she could revel in her own power.

That was what was wrong with these FBI people, Everett thought with disgust. They were so puffed up with their own sense of superiority that they couldn't see past it.

He had hoped that the judge would be impartial and objective, but he was obviously working with the FBI to railroad Will. Everett truly believed that.

How could he help Will, when everyone and everything seemed to be against them? The hope that the judge would see that all of this so-called "evidence" against Will was circumstantial had really been his only hope, and that hadn't gone as he'd wanted it to.

But he couldn't give up, Everett told himself firmly. He couldn't simply turn away and say that this case was unwinnable. He couldn't throw Will to the wolves.

Especially not since he'd started to develop feelings for his client.

That really was something he shouldn't have done, but he hadn't been able to help himself. And he knew that those feelings were growing stronger every day.

Everett almost wanted to groan as he made his way down the front steps of the courthouse. It seemed that his work was at a dead end, that no matter how much he fought, there was nothing he could do for Will. He felt helpless, stymied, at an impasse.

He had to find a way to get Will out of this. He _had_ to. Will's very life could depend on it. And that life was precious to him, in so many ways.

Though at the moment, he didn't know how he was going to protect and preserve that life.


	12. Infinitely Precious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Everett share a forbidden moment when the lights go out.

"I'm sorry, Will. I just don't know where to go from here."

"It's not your fault, Everett." Will's voice was cool, distant. "You did everything you could. He's just too good at knowing how to set people up to take the fall for him."

Everett nodded slowly, letting out his breath on a long sigh. He wasn't giving up yet; he was still Will's lawyer, and he was going to find some kind of loophole in all of this. He was going to fight tooth and nail to get Will out of prison and prove his innocence.

But at the moment, he had no idea how that was going to be accomplished. He was frustrated to the point of ripping his own hair out.

The last thing he wanted was to admit defeat, especially since it would be Hannibal Lecter who had been the one to engineer that defeat. He didn't want Will here, stuck behind bars, accused of crimes he didn't commit. It wasn't how things were supposed to be.

If only he had been able to meet Will under better circumstances, everything between them might be very different. They would know each other much, much better.

That couldn't happen while Will was in this place.

"I'm not giving up, Will." Everett's voice was strong and firm, more so than he felt at the moment. "Not until I have you out of here, and exonerated."

"How are you going to do that, Everett?" Will asked, leaning forward slightly. "There aren't any cracks in the facade. There aren't any loose ends in his plan. He wants me to take the fall for what he did, and there's no way we can prove he didn't do this. Everyone's on his side."

Everett ran a hand over his face, nodding to acknowledge the truth of Will's words as he ran a hand over his face. He felt more helpless than ever.

How was it possible for them to combat Hannibal's evil? He seemed to have everything sewn up. Even when Everett found evidence that Will couldn't have committed the crimes, it was thrown out and ignored. It was as though Hannibal had _paid_ people to look the other way.

Everett wouldn't have been surprised if the bastard had done just that -- or, if he hadn't paid people for their silence, then blackmailed them into it.

He certainly wouldn't put that past Lecter, Everett thought sourly.

Somehow, he had to find a way to reverse this situation, to make sure that Lecter was the one behind bars. But he'd run out of ideas as to how to accomplish that.

He'd been so sure that finding evidence to exonerate Will would be the key to getting him out of here. But his evidence hadn't even been given more than a cursory glance; it was as though everyone was convinced of Will's guilt, and refused to see any other possibility.

As though they were all in some sort of thrall to Lecter. As though he held something over their heads that made them turn a blind eye to what he really was.

Of course, he hid what he was very well. He always had.

Anger flowed through Everett at the thought. How was it that such evil could flourish in the world, and good people like Will paid the price for it?

It wasn't right. It wasn't _fair_. And, dammit, he was going to turn that around. He _was_ going to get Will out of here, to find a way for this young man to be free again. And once he did that, then he could let his feelings for Will move forward.

Right now, all he wanted to do was to erase that look of defeat on Will's handsome features, to take him in his arms and tell him that it would all work out ....

Everett wrenched his thoughts away from that path. Thinking about that wouldn't do either of them any good, not as things stood at the moment.

He reached across the table to take Will's hand, even though he knew that he wasn't supposed to. At the moment, he didn't care about what he was or wasn't supposed to do. He _needed_ to touch Will, needed the physical contact with him.

Everett could feel his fingertips tingle when he touched Will's hand, as if there was some kind of electrical current that connected the two of them.

A spark, one that was almost palpable, flared between the two men.

The lights around them flickered, once, then twice. After a third flicker, all was darkness; no lights, no air conditioning fans, nothing.

Everett stood up, intending to go looking for one of the guards, to see if they knew what had happened. But when he felt Will standing up on the other side of the table, he checked his movement, instead tightening his fingers on Will's, twining them together.

He found himself leaning across the table, desperately trying to bridge the short distance between them, not knowing how much time they would have in darkness.

Their noses bumped, their breaths mingled -- and their lips found each other.

The kiss was merely a breath of touch at first, then, when the lights didn't come back on immediately, it grew deeper, more passionate, more .... exploratory.

Everett's tongue entered Will's mouth, delicately tasting. He wanted to pull Will into his arms, run his hands down the other man's back, feel that slender body pressed next to his own -- but the table was in their way, and Will's hands were chained to it.

Fortunately, the chain gave them a bit of leeway. It was fairly long, and it didn't stop Will's hands from finding Everett's, from twining their fingers together and clinging to him.

Everett raised a hand to curve it around the nape of Will's neck; his fingers brushed the short, curly hair there, aching to pull Will closer, though he knew that he couldn't. Desire exploded within him like a bomb that had gone off without any prior warning.

He'd known that he wanted Will, but he hadn't expected the release of that desire to feel like this. Now more than ever, he knew that he _had_ to get Will out of here.

Will wasn't going to stay in this prison. It wasn't an option.

Will didn't belong here. Hannibal Lecter did. The thought of that reptilian monster made Everett want to snarl and growl, made him want to leave this place right now, track Lecter down, and either tear his throat out, or shoot him dead in his tracks.

Of course, he couldn't do that. He wasn't a killer. He didn't have the right to exact his own brand of justice, no matter how well-deserved it might be.

He would simply have to find another way to get Will out of here. He didn't know how at the moment, be he would do it. This kiss had shown him that he couldn't keep living without Will in his arms, in his life. There _had_ to be a way for them to be together.

If there was a way, he would find it. That was a promise.

He reluctantly broke away from the kiss, wishing that he could see the expression on Will's face. But the darkness around them was absolute; he could merely feel the touch of Will's fingers in his, the warmth of the other man's skin against his own.

And somehow, just for this moment, that was enough.

"I'll find a way to get you out of here, Will," he whispered. "I promise you that .And I'll find a way to put him behind bars for what he's done to you. He'll pay. I know he will."

As he spoke, the lights flickered once, twice, and then came back on. Everett and Will sprang apart; Will's hands were no longer in his own, the touch no longer connecting them. He suddenly felt bereft, as though he had lost something infinitely precious.

No. He wasn't going to lose Will. They'd just had a moment together, and he wasn't going to let it go, or let it fade away so easily.

He was going to hang onto that moment, and turn it into more.

Everett knew in his heart that Will wanted the same thing; there was no way that this man would have been kissing him back if his feelings weren't just as strong.

Looking into Will's blue eyes, he saw everything that he himself felt in his heart; he could see his own need and desire reflected back at him in those oceanic depths. Will wanted him just as much as he wanted Will; he didn't doubt that for a single second.

He would redouble his efforts to find a way out of this maze they were trapped in. He _had_ to. For both of them, and for the future he desperately wanted them to have.

tt _could_ be done. He simply had to find the key.

The guards appeared at the door, and he knew that it was time for the two of them to say goodbye for the day. Will turned towards the door as one guard unfastened the chains from the table, casting a glance at Everett as he was escorted out of the room -- and smiling at him.

That smile made his heart melt -- and strengthened his resolve even further.


	13. Only in His Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is more determined than ever to prove his innocence and make his dreams of a future with Everett come true.

Everett had kissed him.

Everett had actually _kissed_ him. Will couldn't stop his fingers from moving to his lips, trailing along their outline, his eyes closing as he remembered.

He could still taste the gentleness of that kiss on his lips, the promise of it. He could still feel Everett's lips on his, those lips that he had watched whenever Everett spoke, wondering what they would feel like on his, just how a kiss from this man would taste.

Well, now he knew. And he also knew that he wanted Everett more than he ever had, that he wasn't going to be happy until he was out of here and they had a future.

What kind of a future did he have behind bars?

Will sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head in his hands. He might as well face facts. He had nothing to offer Everett, nothing at all.

Even if Everett _did_ manage to get him out of here, he would still have a cloud of suspicion hanging over his head. He seriously doubted that anyone would ever look at him in the same way again; even if he was proven innocent, a lot of people wouldn't believe it.

There would always be some people who would see him as guilty, and say that he had only gotten away with it because he'd worked for the FBI.

Never mind that the FBI seemed perfectly content to railroad him; they were buying into the frame-up, even putting Hannibal into his place, giving that monster the job that _he_ used to do for them. They were even saying that Hannibal was _becoming_ Will Graham.

The very thought of being associated with that hideous reptile made him feel sick. He wished that he had never heard of Hannibal Lecter, never met him.

But it was too late for that wish to come true now. Far too late.

Hannibal had already destroyed his life, and it looked as though he might never be able to put all of those shattered pieces back together again.

He desperately wanted to have a future with Everett, but who knew if that could happen? Will had learned the hard way that no matter how badly he wanted something, even worked towards it, there were times when wanting and even hard work didn't make it happen.

Wishing on a star didn't work, and dreams didn't always come true. In fact, he'd come to the conclusion that dreams coming true only happened in fairy tales.

He had become cynical, he thought with a sigh. Cynical and bitter.

That was the kind of man Everett would want. He wouldn't want to be with someone who couldn't believe in dreams, someone who had closed himself off to possibilities.

He couldn't let that happen to himself. He had to hold on to his dreams, had to hold on to hope. He had to believe in Everett, believe that he would find a way for them to be together, to get him out of here so that he could finally leave this nightmare behind.

Was that even possible? Or had Hannibal been so good at what he'd done that Everett would never be able to find a way out for them?

Will's hands clenched into fists at the thought; the last thing he wanted was for that monster to win, for him to be trapped here forever, away from Everett.

Hannibal thought that he had Will right where he wanted him, that he had foreseen all the eventualities, and that no one could help him. But Will refused to let his belief in Everett be shaken. If anyone could find a way to get him out of here, Everett could.

His fingers strayed to his lips again, still tasting that kiss. He would hold on to that, hold it close, keep it in his dreams and in his heart.

Everett wanted him. That was enough to keep him going.

He'd never thought that anyone would look at him with the kind of love in their eyes that he saw in Everett's whenever their gazes met. It took his breath away.

And he felt exactly the same. He knew that his emotions showed when he looked at Everett; he couldn't have held them back, even if he had wanted to. He knew that everything he felt for this man was written in his eyes, etched clearly on his face.

He didn't care if everyone knew that he was falling in love. He didn't care what they thought. He _wanted_ them to see that love, wanted people to know that he could _feel_.

Will wanted everyone to know that he wasn't a monster.

He wasn't like Hannibal. He wasn't the kind of unfeeling criminal who could make someone else pay for their crimes, and not care what happened to that person.

Only when he was deep in dreams did people realize that, though. In the real world, everyone seemed to be against him, even the people who he had thought were his friends. Beverly Katz was the only one of his former colleagues who seemed as if she might believe him.

Everyone else had turned their backs, believing what Hannibal wanted them to believe, taking his words like some kind of sick, twisted gospel.

None of those people were truly his friends, not even Jack -- the person he had trusted for so long. It was Jack who had led Hannibal to him, Jack who had begun Hannibal's obsession with him, and started them down this long, convoluted path that they were treading.

Jack had turned his back as surely as everyone else had. Jack no longer believed in him; he had gotten all that he needed out of Will, and was ready to toss him away like trash.

Which was exactly what Hannibal wanted him to do.

Hannibal wanted everyone to give up on him; he wanted Will to believe that he only had friends and allies in his dreams, dreams that could never come true.

Well, that wasn't the case, Will told himself firmly. He had Everett, and his trust and faith in him was utter and absolute. He _knew_ that Everett cared for him, and that he would do everything humanly possible to prove him innocent and get him out of this place.

Hannibal couldn't crush his spirit, or crush his belief in Everett. He might only have other allies when he was dreaming, but in the real world, one was all he needed.

The world might be against him, but as long as he had Everett, he had hope.

His dreams could never be as magical as the real world, now that he knew Everett felt the same way about him. That kiss proved it.

He had more reason than ever to prove his innocence and get out of here now; he had a future to look forward to. Everett would be waiting for him, and he wanted their future together to begin. Preferably away from here, away from everything that reminded him of Hannibal.

They would be able to make a fresh start, to put the past behind them. All that remained to be done was to prove that he couldn't have committed these crimes.

Everett would do it. Somehow, he would. Will had faith in him.

Lying down on the hard surface that passed for a bed, he closed his eyes, wishing that he could dream himself away from this place. Only in his dreams could be he with Everett, though he hoped that in the future, those dreams would become a reality.

They had to. He couldn't keep holding on to nothing but dreams for much longer.


	14. Sweet Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The forbidden kiss he shared with Will has Everett more determined than ever to prove his innocence and get him out of jail.

He'd kissed Will. And he wanted to do it again, as soon as he possibly could.

Everett raised a hand to his lips, feeling somewhat dazed. He hadn't expected to kiss Will, but when the power had gone out, he'd seen the chance and taken it.

He couldn't have held himself back if he'd wanted to -- which, of course, he hadn't. Will's lips had been so soft and sweet; he could swear that he'd tasted innocence on those lips, an innocence that went far beyond that which he was trying to prove legally.

No, the innocence he'd found on Will's lips had been physical innocence. He didn't doubt that Will had been kissed before, but never in the way they had kissed.

Did Will's lips still tingle the same way that his own did?

He could still taste that sweet innocence on his own lips, still feel the warmth and passion that Will's lips had sent rushing through his body, sparkling in his veins.

All he wanted at this moment was to go back to the prison, find some way to make the lights go out again for an even longer period of time, and kiss Will senseless. He wanted to take the younger man into his arms, to feel that slender body next to his own.

This wasn't what he had expected when he'd first offered to defend Will Graham. He hadn't expected to fall in love with his client.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to lust after the man he was supposed to be working to defend. He wasn't supposed to have these kinds of feelings.

But obviously, what he was _supposed_ to feel and what he _did_ feel were two different things. What was more, he could swear that Will felt the same way about him; he could taste not only innocence on those sweet lips, but desire as well.

Will wanted him, just as much as he wanted Will. Everett could see it in those blue eyes when their gazes met, could feel it in the electricity that sizzled between them.

But what good would it do either one of them, if he couldn't free Will from prison?

He couldn't let Will stay in that hellish place for much longer. He didn't belong there; Lecter should be the one behind bars, paying for his own crimes.

He was running out of time, and he knew it. Will knew it, too; if he didn't, then that kiss wouldn't have been so desperate. What would happen if he couldn't find a way to prove Will's innocence? Would he suffer the fate of being sentenced to death, dying for someone else's crimes?

Everett set his jaw, his eyes narrowing. No. He wasn't going to let that happen to Will. He'd find a way to beat this. Somehow, he would find a way.

Both of their futures depended on him discovering a way out.


	15. Paid in Full

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett is astounded when Jack tells him that new evidence has surfaced to prove Will's innocence.

"Will Graham is innocent. He's being set free."

Jack Crawford's words were soft, but they might as well have been shouted through a megaphone.

Everett put down the papers in his hands and stared at Jack, unable to believe what he had just heard. "What? You're letting Will go? Just like that?"

Jack nodded, a small smile on his lips. "We've found irrefutable evidence that Will couldn't have killed all of those people. He's not the Chesapeake Ripper, and I'm ashamed to say that I ever believed he was. He's my friend. I should have had more faith in him."

"And do you suddenly know who the Ripper is?" Everett asked, his brows raised. "Now that you have such proof of Will's innocence, that is."

Jack scowled, shaking his head. "No. We don't. But we will."

Everett wanted to stand up and scream at Jack, to tell this man that he _knew_ who the Ripper was, that he'd always known. He wanted to throw the truth in his face.

Hannibal Lecter was the Chesapeake Ripper. He was responsible not only for those deaths, but for so many others. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands. But if Crawford hadn't believed Will when he'd told him point-blank about Lecter, then he wouldn't believe Everett, either.

Everett tried to calm himself, taking a deep breath and flexing his fingers so that they didn't curl into fists. Anger would get him nowhere.

At least Will's innocence had been proven -- though he didn't know how. "Am I going to be allowed to see this evidence that proved Will's innocence so conclusively?"

Jack nodded, sounding relieved, as though Everett's words had been what he'd wanted to hear. "Of course you will. You're his lawyer, aren't you? You're allowed to see anything that pertains to his case. Though I suppose you'll be going back to England now."

Slowly, Everett shook his head. "No, I won't. I'll be taking some time off. I need a rest after all of this, and Wolf Trap seems as good as place as any to take that vacation."

He couldn't not take notice of the slight smirk on Jack's face.

So, Jack knew that he was interested in Will. That was apparent from the look on his face. Well, Everett didn't care if he knew. He didn't care if the whole world knew.

Technically, Will was no longer his client, now that he was being released from jail. They could be involved if they wanted to be; there were no professional ethics to hold him back now. He couldn't care less what any of the people around them might think.

"Will was innocent all along, and the FBI tried to throw him under the bus," he said, looking directly into Jack's eyes. "Neither of us owes them anything. The debts are paid in full."

With that, Everett turned his attention back to his papers, ignoring the other man.

He didn't look up when the door closed.


	16. Written on His Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is more than ready to begin writing a new chapter in his life when he's finally released from prison.

It actually felt odd to be leaving this place.

As much as he'd dreamed about getting out of jail, seeing the walls of the Baltimore State Hospital For the Criminally Insane for the last time, it felt strange to leave.

Will walked slowly along the corridor that led to the outside world, a world he had been sure that he would never see again except as a prisoner being transported to court and back. He had given up all hope of ever getting out, of having his life back.

As much as he trusted Everett and wanted to believe in him, he'd been sure that Hannibal had framed him so expertly that no proof of his innocence could possibly be found.

And now, it seemed that proof _had_ been discovered -- but by the FBI, not by Everett. Will was sure that Hannibal had set that up, too -- for some reason, his nemesis had decided that Will was of more use to him as a free man than as a prisoner behind bars.

Whatever had made Hannibal decide that, he almost felt grateful for it. It was just a relief to know that he _was_ free now, and that he could pick up the threads of his life.

Only now, he had more of a life than he had when he was sent to prison.

Everett was waiting for him outside those doors -- waiting for him to walk out of here and into the life that they would build together, as a couple.

They hadn't said those words to each other, but he had felt that it was what Everett wanted. He had been able to sense it in the way that his lawyer had looked at him, in the intensity of those pale eyes when their gaze had rested on Will's face.

Everett felt the same way he did. They both wanted a future together -- but with the spectre of Hannibal hanging over them, that might not be as easy as it seemed.

Will wanted to walk out of here into Everett's arms, to know that they had a firm and strong foundat8ion on which to build a future. But there was so much that they didn't yet know about each other; at the moment, their future was shaky, at best.

But they would strengthen it, day by day, Will told himself firmly. If they both wanted this badly enough, he _knew_ that they could make it happen.

There was still so much about Everett that was a mystery to him.

For one thing, why did Everett seem to have such a vendetta against Hannibal? Just what was it that made Everett so eager to put him behind bars?

Why was he so convinced that Hannibal was indeed the Chesapeake Ripper? Will hadn't even had to put that theory to him strongly before he'd embraced it.

It was as though Everett _knew_ that Hannibal was the Ripper because he'd seen something with his own eyes -- or had been a victim of Hannibal's crimes. Will would have to talk to him about, ask him to tell all that he knew that couldn't be told within the prison walls.

Will wanted to know all of Everett's thoughts on the matter; maybe the two of them could put their heads together and figure out just how to manipulate Hannibal into a corner.

That was what he wanted now, as much as a future life with Everett -- to make sure that Hannibal was put where he had been, where he could never harm another person.

Everett could help him do that, he was sure. Together, they would make a good team; maybe Everett had been unable to find the evidence to get him released from prison and prove his innocence, but that was only because Hannibal's false "evidence" of his guilt had been so convincing.

He could have had to spend his life in this hulking place -- an idea that made his soul shrink and his heart stutter. He didn't even want to think about that.

Will knew that he would never be able to forget what it had felt like to be incarcerated; this place would be written on his soul forever. He'd never be completely free of it.

He might not be inside this place any more, but it would always be inside _him_.

But he would be free of it in the physical sense, Will told himself, trying to stay optimistic. He wouldn't be inside those four walls any more. He would be free.

He and Everett would figure out a way to prove what they knew about Hannibal. And now, he was also fairly sure that they would have Jack on their side. He'd seen something new in Jack's eyes the last time they had talked, a respect and belief that hadn't been there before.

Jack was on his side now. Will wasn't absolutely sure of that, but he thought so. Jack was ready to believe him, to accept the fact that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper.

Will didn't know what had happened to bring Jack over to their side, but whatever it was, he felt grateful for it. With Jack in their corner, they would hopefully have the resources at their disposal to prove Hannibal's guilt, and put him where he belonged once and for all.

Of course, that wouldn't be possible if Hannibal didn't screw up and make a mistake at some point, one that they could pounce on.

It had to happen. Hannibal's own hubris would trip him up sooner or later.

And when it did, they would have him cornered. Will didn't doubt that it would happen; he just hoped that it would take place sooner, rather than later.

He wanted all of this to be over; he wanted to be able to forget about his past, forget about this place, and start a new life with Everett. He didn't know where that life would lead him, but wherever it went, whatever path it took, he would follow.

It was time to put his past behind him, and embrace something new and different. This place might be written on his soul, but it didn't have to cast a shadow over his life.

Blinking in the bright sunlight, Will walked out of the shadows of the building that he'd been afraid he might never leave. And there, standing beside a silver Lexus in the parking lot, was Everett, a smile on his lips, one hand outstretched towards Will.

It was time to cover up what this place had written on his soul, and write a new chapter in his life. One that would be a lot happier than the past had been.

Smiling, he walked toward Everett, his pace quickening with every step.


	17. A Meeting of Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett is overcome by emotion when he and Will can finally embrace each other.

Will was here. Will was a free man. He was out of prison at last.

And Will was walking towards him, those intense blue eyes glowing with what Everett wanted to feel was the light of love, or at least of something that could become love.

He held out a hand, forcing himself not to run towards Will and sweep the other man into his arms. It was all that he had wanted to do from the first time he'd sat across from him that cell and gazed into those incredible eyes -- and now, he was free to do so.

But hugging Will here, pulling him into an embrace, wasn't the thing to do. That would have to wait until they had some privacy, alone behind closed doors.

Still, it was _so hard_ to be patient, to make himself wait.

He didn't want to wait, Everett realized. And he didn't have to. He was free to do whatever he wanted. There was no reason for him to keep his hands off Will.

Without thinking, he held out both arms, stepping forward, one step, then another. Was it his imagination, or did Will's footsteps quicken? Was he nearly _running_ to get to Everett, the look of anticipation on his face mirrored on Everett's own features?

He didn't stop to think about that. He just held out his arms, a smile spreading across his face, that smile growing wider with each step that Will took towards him.

Then Will was in his arms, and their lips met in a sweet, fierce kiss that was as heady as fine wine, a kiss that both of them let themselves fall into.

It was a meeting not only of lips, but of hearts. Everett could feel Will's arms wrap tightly around him, pulling him close; his own arms were snugly around Will's waist, refusing to let go. It was as though all of those feelings they'd kept hidden were now pouring out.

He couldn't have let Will go even if he'd wanted to. He had waited too long for this kiss, this embrace, for these feelings to come to the surface and burst out.

He wanted to let them overtake him, to submerge him in emotion.

When they both finally pulled back from the kiss, Everett raised a hand to push Will's hair back from his face, gazing into those intensely blue eyes.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," he whispered, his voice almost breaking with the strength of what he was feeling. "I've wanted to hold you and kiss ever since the first time I saw you. It's hard to believe that I"m finally free to do it. It's like a dream come true."

Will nodded, his own voice soft and husky with emotion when he spoke. "All I could think about when I was leaving was that I'd be coming to you."

All Everett could do was nod, and pull Will into his arms for another sweet, lingering kiss.


	18. Personal Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett wonders how telling Will his reasons for being here will change their relationship.

So much had changed, seemingly in the blink of an eye.

Everett looked up from where he sat on the couch as Will came down the stairs, a towel around his slender shoulders. He couldn't hold back a smile.

There was a light in Will's eyes that he hadn't seen there before, one that he could only attribute to the fact that he was a free man again. Everett didn't like the way that the "evidence" freeing Will had come about, but as long as he was out of prison, he wouldn't quibble over it.

Still, he couldn't help but be sure that Hannibal had been behind that evidence, just as much as he' had been behind the frame-up that had sent Will to jail.

This was a turnaround, a changer that Everett was wary of.

What was Hannibal's game? Why was he obviously trying to get Will out of trouble, proving his innocence when it would only lead the authorities to search for the Ripper again?

Hannibal had to know that he would eventually be caught. Sooner or later, he would make mistakes that would lead the FBI directly to his doorstep. They might not be listening to Will now when he said that his former friend was the Ripper, but at some point, they would.

Everett was worried for Will's safety, and unsure of just how far Hannibal would go to keep Will quiet about what he knew now that he was out of prison.

Was Will thinking about the same thing? Was he as worried about Hannibal's motives as Everett was, or was he just happy to be in his own home again?

He didn't want to ask, didn't want to wipe that look of contentment from Will's face. At some point, they'd have to talk about their next move -- and he would also have to tell Will about his past, and just why he had offered his services as Will's attorney.

Everett couldn't help but wonder how much that would change the dynamic of their relationship -- and if Will would even want to be with him once he found out.

He hoped that their budding relationship wouldn't be irrevocably destroyed.

Will sat down beside him, running a hand through his damp curls and turning to face Everett. The smile was already gone from his face, replaced by a serious expression.

"I think we need to talk," he said softly, reaching for Everett's hand. "I need to know why you're here with me, Everett. I need to know what brought you here, and how all of this started .I promise, I'm not going to judge you. But I have a right to know, before this goes any further."

Everett nodded slowly; he agreed with those words. Will did indeed have a right to know, and he owed it to this man to be completely honest.

He just hoped that any changes his personal revelations wrought would be good ones.


	19. All the Right Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett finally tells Will his reasons for wanting to see Hannibal behind bars.

"I ...." Everett took a deep breath, facing Will and taking his hands as they sat on the couch, wondering what he should say, how to begin this explanation.

"Everett, whatever you need to say, just say it," Will said, his voice very soft and soothing. "I'm not going to leave. I just need to know your reasons for being here."

Everett nodded, letting out his breath in a _whoosh_.

He hadn't anticipated this, hadn't thought that Will would want to know about his past and his personal vendetta against Hannibal so soon. But it was time to tell.

And he was _ready_ to talk about it. He needed to. He had kept all of it inside for far too long, and maybe it had started to eat away at him around the edge. He needed to let someone know, and who better than the man he wanted to spend his life with?

"I .... have somewhat of a past with Hannibal that goes beyond Garret and Abigail," he began, shaking his head. "It has nothing to do with them, actually."

"I figured that," Will said softly, his intense blue gaze never leaving Everett's face. "I could see how much you hated Hannibal every time you'd say his name. I don't think anybody else could tell, but for me, it was in your eyes. It showed, and it made me wonder."

"He took someone from me who I loved deeply," Everett whispered, his hands tightening on Will's. "He murdered my fiancé. The man I was living with."

Will nodded, his gaze full of sympathy. "Go on."

For several long moments, it was hard for Everett to speak. He kept viewing the past, seeing it in his mind's eyes, seeing that terrible night replayed in living color.

"He .... I don't know if he chose us for a reason, because he already knew Garret or not," Everett murmured. "I've always wondered about that, but I'll probably never know. I don't think so. I think him finding them after he moved to the States was just coincidence."

"I don't believe in coincidences, especially not with him," Will said softly. "I think everything he does is part of a plan. I think he targeted the two of you for a reason."

Everett considered for a moment, the nodded. Yes, he could believe that.

"Whatever the reason, he .... attacked us at home one night," he whispered, swallowing hard. "He must have managed to open a window. He was waiting for us."

Everett continued, unable to stop himself as the words poured out. "He was in the living room when we went in and turned the lights on. I was first, and he .... hit me in the head. I don't know what with. I don't know how long I was unconscious."

He closed his eyes, not wanting to go on. His throat was closing, the horror that he'd felt when he'd come to and seen what was happening enfolding him again.

"I woke up .... I was too disoriented and weak to get to my feet, and I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or not," he managed to choke out. "He was bent over Luke -- my fiancé -- and he was .... he was ...." Everett swallowed, closing his eyes.

Will's hands tightened on his, squeezing gently, obviously trying to impart the strength to go on with his tale. Taking a deep breath, Everett spoke again, the words shaky.

"He was .... cutting off Luke's leg. To take it with him."

Bile rose in his throat at the memory; for just a moment, he was sure that he would throw up, but he fought back the sensation and kept going.

"He'd already gut off Luke's arm, I could see that .... and all I could think was that I would be next." He stopped again, a shudder going through him. 

"Then I passed out, and when I woke up again, he was gone. Luke's body was lying there, minus an arm and a leg, and I knew he was dead. He was .... there was so much blood," Everett whispered, the horror fresh in his mind again. "So much red."

Will squeezed his hand gently again, trying to communicate strength and understanding. Everett found himself clinging to that hand as though to a lifeline.

"Did you know what he intended to do with the body parts?" Will asked, his voice very low. "No, that's a stupid question. You couldn't have known then."

Everett shook his head, answering Will in the affirmative. "I had no idea, but I think something told me that they weren't simply trophies of his kill. I might not have known definitively, but something about his eyes .... in the back of my mind, I think I knew what he was."

"You didn't see his face clearly, did you?" Will whispered, a look of horror dawning on his face. Everett knew just what he was thinking, and shook his head quickly.

"He doesn't know that I did," he said, taking another deep breath to steady himself. "At first, when I saw what he was doing to Luke, I didn't. But later ...."

His voice trailed off again, then gathered strength as the memory solidified.

"When he was leaving, I did. When he was walking out of the door, he turned and surveyed Luke's body -- and he _smiled_. This horrid smile of .... of _satisfaction_."

Now the words poured out; Everett couldn't seem to stem the tide of them. "It was a smile that spoke of a reward for a job well done. And when he looked at Luke's severed arm and leg in the plastic bags he was carrying, I _knew_ what he was. How could I not?"

The shudder went through him again as he remembered the hungry, greedy expression on Hannibal's face. "He couldn't see me. I was behind the coffee table. But I saw _him_."

He didn't take his eyes from Will's face as he continued. "I saw him clearly, Will. I knew exactly who he was. Well, I didn't know his name at the time, but I could identify him. And once I _did_ find out his name, I made it my life's mission to catch him."

"Why didn't the authorities do anything when you went to them about Luke's death?" Will asked, unable to believe that such a horrible crime hadn't been investigated.

"They didn't believe me," Everett whispered. "They didn't think I'd seen him."

"What?" Will could hardly believe his ears. "They didn't believe that you'd seen the killer, even when you could give them a detailed description of how he looked?"

Everett nodded miserably, closing his eyes again. "They made up every excuse that they could not to follow through. Telling me that I couldn't possibly have seen him as clearly as I thought I had, that there was no way he would have let me live if I had been a witness."

"That's true enough," Will said, his voice grim. "He normally wouldn't. But he didn't know that you'd seen his face. And it sounds like a cover-up to me."

Everett nodded in agreement, anger written in his expression.

"They didn't give a damn about catching the person who did it," he almost snarled. "It was as thought they _knew_ who it was, and were protecting him."

The feeling of helplessness swept over him again, that feeling of being caught in a web, struggling to get free and knowing that he couldn't. The feeling that the deck was stacked against him, and that he was never going to find justice for himself and Luke.

"That was why it was so important to me to prove you innocent," he said softly, finally looking into Will's blue eyes again. "As much for myself as for you."

Will nodded, a small smile curving his lips. "I understand," he whispered, squeezing Everett's hands gently again. "I do. I'd feel the same way. And we're going to get justice, Everett. For both you and Luke. And for me, too. We're going to put Hannibal behind bars."

"I'm just glad that _you're_ not behind those bars any longer," Everett said with a sigh. "Even though I do believe that it was _him_ who got you out."

Will nodded, his brow creasing in thought.

"I don't know his reasons behind doing that, but they're not the right ones," he said with a sigh. "But your reasons for being here, and for helping me, are."

Everett nodded, relieved that Will understood him and agreed with his reasons for being here. Yes, they _were_ the right reasons, at least for people who believed in justice, as the two of them did. His reasons were ones that any decent person would understand.

He was here for the right reasons, and he would stay here until he and Will -- hopefully, with the FBI's help -- had put Hannibal in prison for the rest of his life, where he belonged.

It wouldn't be easy, but somehow, it _would_ be done.

Together, he and Will would prove Hannibal's guilt, and they would find justice -- not only for Will and Luke, but for everyone that Hannibal had ever victimized.

They would bring justice for all of the right reasons.


	20. Nothing Comes Too Easily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that he's a free man, Will is more determined than ever to see Hannibal put behind bars for his crimes.

He couldn't begin to imagine what Everett had gone through.

Will's heart went out to the other man; he wished that there were some words of comfort he could offer, but he knew that there was nothing he could say.

Seeing the person you loved mutilated, knowing that they had been murdered and who did it, but having no one who was willing to pursue the person who had committed such a horrible crime -- it was unthinkable. If it had been him, he would have gone insane.

Well, the authorities _had_ pursued Hannibal, Will told himself. They just hadn't been able to prove that it was him who had committed the crime.

And they hadn't believed that it was Hannibal, either, he told himself. As usual, the bastard had managed to protect himself, all the while killing indiscriminately, taking lives with the assurance that the cops wouldn't believe that he was the perpetrator.

Will's hands clenched into fists as he brought a picture of that smug, reptilian face to mind. He hated that snake, hated him with a vehemence that almost shocked him.

He wanted to see Hannibal suffer for all that he'd done.

Not just for killing people close to Will, but for all the crimes he'd committed against humanity. Hannibal wasn't human; he was a monster.

He deserved to be put behind bars, to lose his freedom for the rest of his life. For Hannibal, that would be a fate worse than death. Losing his reputation, having the world be repulsed by him, knowing that he was a killer, would bring him lower than he had ever been.

Of course, there would always be some misguided fools who would worship him, Will thought disgustedly. And that would more than likely keep him going.

That would feed his already monstrous ego, make him feel that he was of some kind of worth in this world when he wasn't. But Will knew that no matter what they did, no one would be able to keep those acolytes from worshiping at their hero's feet.

It was sick and perverted, but there would always be people who were twisted enough to worship killers. He sighed softly, wishing that he could push the thought away.

That wasn't what he needed to focus on right now.

He needed to try to think of a way that he and Everett could prove that it was Hannibal who had committed these crimes, that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper.

And they needed to find out just why Hannibal had decided to provide the "evidence" that had made Will a free man. Will had no idea why it had been done, and it worried him. This meant that he was still squarely in Hannibal's sights, and that the mind games would continue.

He wasn't sure just how much longer he could deal with them. He was already starting to feel that he was coming apart at the seams, fraying around the edges.

He'd thought that he was going to go crazy when he was in jail; the only thing that had kept him holding on to his sanity was knowing that Everett was trying to get him out.

Everett had been all that he'd had to hold on to; if this man hadn't been there for him, he would have let himself sink into a depression that he might never have been able to come out of. That was what Hannibal had counted on -- bringing him to his lowest point.

Hannibal had wanted to break him down, to make him hit rock bottom, and then build him back up in his own image, to make him into what Hannibal wanted him to be.

Will clenched his fists again, anger flowing through him.

He wasn't going to give Hannibal the satisfaction of slinking away like some kind of criminal. He wasn't the one at fault here; Hannibal was.

He wouldn't let that bastard keep playing mind games with him. He would stand up to Hannibal in a way that he hadn't felt he was able to before, now that he had Everett by his side. He wasn't going to turn and run; he was going to stand and fight.

With Everett by his side, they could accomplish anything. The two of them would stand against Hannibal, and together, they would show the world what he was.

Will sighed softly, propping his chin in his hand with a frown. The first thing they had to do was to convince the FBI that Hannibal was indeed the Chesapeake Ripper; it would take a lot more than merely what he and Everett said to make a case against him.

There were too many ways that Everett's story could be refuted, even though Will believed him implicitly. They had to find more proof of Hannibal's guilt than what they had.

Which was obviously going to be much more easily said than done.

He had to concentrate on the fact that he was a free man, and that he wasn't going to be thrown back into prison. He had been exonerated and proven innocent.

Still, it bothered him that the evidence the lab had used to prove him innocent seemed to have been so conveniently placed, just like the so-called "evidence" that had damned him in the first place. He didn't doubt for one moment that it was Hannibal's work.

Jack might believe him, as well as the lab techs, but how did he prove it to anyone else? How did he make people believe that Hannibal Lecter was a monster?

Will didn't know how he would go about proving that fact, but he had Everett with him now -- and two heads were always better than one. Together, they would somehow manage to prove Hannibal's guilt, and they would get justice for all of his victims.

Just _how_ they were going to achieve that objective was beyond him at the moment, but they would find a way. There was always a way.

They would put Hannibal behind bars, Will vowed. No matter what it might take.

Then the mind games would be at an end, and the two of them would know that they had done some good in the world, as well as finding closure for themselves.

Would it be easy? No. But nothing worth having ever came too easily, Will reminded himself. And at this point, he was more than prepared to undertake the fight of his life.


	21. Vengeful Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett knows that he and Will can never find the closure they need until Hannibal is put behind bars for good.

Well, now Will knew the truth about why he had come to the States and offered to take his case pro bono. There were no more secrets between them.

Everett sighed softly, feeling relief wash through him.

He had wanted to tell Will the truth from the beginning, but hadn't felt that he could. After all, there were too many ways for Chilton to hear what they were saying.

He didn't doubt that some of the guards in that horrible place reported directly to Chilton, so anything that they could have whispered out of range of the microphones, any looks that they'd exchanged that weren't caught by the cameras, would have been seen and noted.

But now that Will was a free man, there were no more barriers separating them. No sour-faced man keeping watch over them like the proverbial hawk.

They could express their feelings for each other freely. No one could stop them. It was a relief to know that Will felt the same as he did, that he wanted to start a relationship. That fact made his heart sing and his soul soar. He'd never felt so happy in his life.

But there was a shadow that hung over their happiness, a shadow that would always be there until they could find a way to vanquish it for good.

A vengeful shadow whose name was Hannibal Lecter.

That shadow was always going to hang over their lives, darkening their days, until they could put it where it belonged -- behind bars for good. He didn't know how they were going to manage that, but somehow, they would. He was determined to achieve that goal.

He wanted to see Hannibal pay for his crimes. He wanted justice for not only his late fiancé, but for everyone who Hannibal had ever harmed.

That didn't just mean the people that he'd killed, the innocent lives he had taken. He wanted justice and closure for all the families who had been left bereft because of Hannibal's evil, for all the people who had lost loved ones and had felt the same pain that he himself did.

Then, and only then, would he feel that his job was done.

He wanted justice for Will, too, Everett told himself, a frown furrowing his brow. He wanted Will to be able to close the book on the last chapter of his life.

Until Will could do that, until he could find the closure that he needed, the two of them would never be able to have a happy, normal life together. Yes, they could be together, but that shadow would always hang over them, and Will would always look over his shoulder.

In truth, so would he. He didn't doubt that Hannibal would come after the two of them - with the objective of getting him out of the way.

He wasn't blind. He had seen the anger, the possessiveness, the _jealousy_ in Hannibal's eyes in the one encounter they'd had with each other.

His own anger matched Hannibal's; he didn't doubt that. But unlike the other man, he wasn't willing to kill, or do anything else that it might take, to have Will in his life. He wasn't a criminal; he wasn't a murderer. As much as he loved Will, he drew the line at that.

Hannibal would draw no lines, accept no boundaries. He would do anything he could to have Will back in his control, to keep the young man under his thumb.

Everett didn't doubt that for a moment. Hannibal was a ruthless man.

He would do all in his power to stop that from happening. He had no intention of relinquishing the man he loved to Hannibal Lecter; he knew that it could be all too easy for Will to fall under his spell, to be coerced into becoming something he would normally recoil from.

Or would it be that easy? Everett wondered. There was a core of strength in Will, a steely willpower that he wouldn't have thought the young man possessed.

Will Graham was no wilting flower; he wasn't the kind of person who was going to simply give in without a fight, especially not if the argument was over something he believed in. He wouldn't let Hannibal turn him into something that he didn't want to become.

Will had an inner core of strength, and incredible presence of mind.

Everett had no doubt that Will could stand his own ground against Hannibal, but still, he was glad that he was here to help the young man take a stand.

What he really wanted was to get Will out of here, to take him to London, and for the two of them to settle down there. Somehow, he felt that it would be safer for both of them, that they would be out of Hannibal's immediate line of fire.

But would they really? he asked himself. Hannibal could easily fabricate a reason to get on a plane and fly to London, to menace them there.

No, they weren't safe from Hannibal, no matter where they went. The only way that they'd be safe from his machinations was when he was behind bars for good, all of his evil exposed for the world to see. They would never be free of his shadow until that happened.

He didn't want that vengeful shadow to keep hanging over their lives. He wanted for them to be able to live and love freely, without having to look over their shoulders.

Was that ever going to happen? Everett thought with a sigh.

He could only hope that it would, and that the inevitable confrontation with Hannibal would be one where he and Will would come out on the winning side.


	22. Work To Be Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett muses on all that still has to be done to capture Hannibal.

They couldn't let themselves feel as though they were safe from Hannibal, Everett thought with a frown. He knew only too well that they weren't.

How could they be? He remembered the black look of hatred that Hannibal had given him when they had met; there was no way that anyone could feel safe when someone had stared at them so malevolently.

Hannibal didn't intend to let them feel safe; that was all too obvious. And Everett couldn't help wondering which of them, himself or Will, would be his first target.

He knew that Hannibal would stop at nothing to achieve his objectives.

Of course, he didn't know what those objectives were, but he could guess. First of all, Hannibal would want to get Will back under his sphere of influence, make sure that the young man was firmly under his thumb.

Then, he would want to get Everett out of the picture. The idea made Everett shiver; he knew all too well how deadly Hannibal could be.

He'd seen that with his own eyes, in what had been his own home. He didn't want to go through something like that again; he had lost one person he'd loved to Hannibal's evil, and he didn't intend to lose Will.

He would protect Will, no matter what he had to do. He wasn't going to let the man he'd fallen in love with fall under that monster's spell.

The first order of business was to figure out just what Hannibal was after, why he had provided the evidence that had set Will free after he had worked so hard to have Will imprisoned. Just what game was he playing?

Everett knew that wouldn't be easy to decipher.

Hannibal was far too good at playing games, far too experienced at it. He and Will were the novices, new to dealing with this kind of labyrinth.

But they _would_ defeat Hannibal, Everett vowed, scowling. They _would_ turn the tables on that monster, and surprise him with what he least expected. This time, he wasn't going to be the victor.

Everett refused to believe for even a moment that Hannibal could come out on top in this cat and mouse game. He knew that to think that way meant certain defeat.

One of Hannibal's strengths was his hubris, his absolute certainty that he was above the law and that no one could manage to decipher him. Though Everett knew that such pride could also be Hannibal's downfall.

Sooner or later, that hubris would trip him up, and he would make a fatal mistake. Then they would have him backed into a corner.

Everett could hardly wait for that day to come.

It _would_ come, he told himself firmly. He and Will were on the side of good, and good _always_ triumphed over evil.

Or did it? a little voice in the back of his mind spoke up. Did good always win? He had seen far too many examples of good being vanquished, of people needlessly suffering while evil walked free in the world.

He'd been through that himself, on a personal basis, hadn't he? He knew all too well that no, good did _not_ always win in the end.

But this time, he wasn't going to let evil triumph. He hadn't known what to do when Luke had been killed, and he'd felt stymied and frustrated. No one had believed him, and he'd had no proof of what Hannibal really was.

This time, with Will on his side, they could convince people like Jack Crawford of the fact that Hannibal was indeed a monster, one that should be locked up. They would be able to prove his guilt, once and for all.

It wouldn't be easy, of course; they would have to find a way to make Hannibal expose his evil, and so far, he had been far too cautious to do so.

Sooner or later, he _had_ to. No one could keep committing crimes of the kind of magnitude that Hannibal's were and keep getting away with them. He had been lucky so far, but at some point, his luck would run out.

Everett's lips thinned as a flash of white-hot anger rushed through him. Hannibal _had_ to be stopped, for the good of society.

Somehow, he and Will would find a way to do that.

He didn't know if Jack Crawford was completely on their side yet, but he had a feeling that the man would be. It was just a matter of time.

Crawford would take some convincing, of course. Everett had expected that. He wasn't the kind of man who would simply believe anything he heard. But Everett was sure that he could be convinced once he heard the whole story.

Once Crawford knew of what Hannibal had done in London, and the other crimes that Everett was sure he'd committed, his interest would be piqued.

Everett had a thick folder of crime scene pictures and descriptions that he was sure he could attribute to Lecter, and he intended to show them to Jack Crawford. Their uncanny resemblance to the Chesapeake Ripper's crimes couldn't be denied.

He was sure that once Crawford saw what he had to offer, he would be more than ready to go after Hannibal Lecter.

Then, with the FBI's help, they would have him.

He didn't want revenge just for himself and Luke, Everett reminded himself. He wanted to put Lecter behind bars for the good of society in general, to stop him from hurting other people, which he undoubtedly _would_ do.

And he wanted revenge for Will, as well. He wanted to pay Lecter back for the hell he had put Will through in the last months.

He had been shaken to find out exactly how that monster had tormented Will, to learn that he had literally given Will a potentially fatal illness, simply to see how Will would react, and hadn't cared whether it had killed Will or not.

How could anyone be so evil? he wondered. How could someone have so little regard for human life? It didn't seem possible.

Yet it certainly _was_ possible. Lecter was proof that a person who had absolutely no qualms about killing could indeed exist, and could walk amongst other wearing the mask of an affable human being over the face of a predator.

He wanted to rid the world of that predator once and for all.

They would do it, he told himself firmly. Between himself, Will, and the FBI, they would put Hannibal behind bars, his evil neutralized.

They would achieve their goal, and have the closure that they needed. Everett was more sure of that than he had ever been; he was confident that with the FBI on their side, their job would be much easier than if they were attempting it alone.

But there was still work to be done, he cautioned himself. He couldn't be too confident. Not yet. The hardest part was still ahead of them.

They would get that work done, and they _would_ succeed.

All they needed at this point was to get Jack Crawford on their side, and Everett was sure that the man was nearly already there.

Then, they would have to put their heads together and figure out the best way to trap the predator that they were after. That wouldn't be the hardest part, though. The most difficult thing would be actually putting that plan into action.

They would manage it, no matter what they had to do, Everett told himself firmly. And the plan _would_ work. It had to. There was no other option.


	23. What We Really Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett is frustrated by his own inability to find a way to stop Hannibal.

"Do you know how impossible that's going to be?" Will demanded, shaking his head. "Everett, he isn't going to just confess to all the crimes he's committed."

"Of course he isn't," Everett answered with a frown. "But there has to be a way to trip him up, to make him at least allude to those crimes. And when he does, then we'll have him."

But Will shook his head again, running a hand through his dark curls.

Everett sat back in his chair, gazing at Will across the table. This wasn't the most palatable subject to be talking about over lunch, but it seemed to be all they talked about these days.

"It won't be as easy as you think," he said softly, a frown marring his brow. "If it was, then he'd have been caught long before now. Everett, the man doesn't talk about the Chesapeake Ripper's crimes as if he's familiar with them. He pretends that he knows nothing about them other than what the FBI tells him."

Everett nodded reluctantly, knowing that Will was right. It wouldn't be easy to make Hannibal trip up and admit that he knew anything about the murders other than what he was told by investigators.

If it was easy to get the other man to brag about what he'd done, to exercise his hubris, then he would have been caught long ago, and there would have been no need for Everett to come here and defend Will from a bogus murder charge. Hannibal was far too good at covering up his tracks.

Not only that, but he was also far too good at setting other people up. Everett wondered if he would be the next person who found himself accused of murders that he hadn't committed.

The thought sent an icy chill down his spine, making him shiver.

Hannibal was more than capable of setting him up; he didn't doubt that for a moment. The bastard would probably do it out of spite, simply to see him parted from Will, to try and drive a wedge into their relationship. 

But he wouldn't succeed in that, Everett told himself firmly. He and Will weren't going to be driven apart; their relationship might still be in the nascent stages, but they were a committed couple. They both knew what they wanted -- and they wanted to be with each other, even in the midst of all this chaos.

"What we really want is to get him to admit to at least one of the Chesapeake Ripper murders," Will continued. "If he does that, then we'll have him for all of them."

"We just need that one admission of guilt," Everett agreed, nodding again. "But it isn't going to be easy to get that, Will. We all know that. Hannibal doesn't even see himself as committing murders. He sees himself as some sort of .... angel of mercy, I think. A hunter. I don't know what you would call it."

"I don't either," Will murmured, looking down. "But whatever he sees himself as being, he's nothing but a killer. He's a psychopath, a menace to the world. He has to be stopped."

"We'll stop him," Everett said with more conviction than he felt.  
He had already been stymied more than once when it came to catching Hannibal Lecter. Everett knew that it was going to take more than a simple plan to put that monster behind bars.

He was also sure that at some point, Hannibal was going to come after Will again. The man considered Will to be _his_ , and Everett knew that Hannibal wasn't simply going to turn away and give up now that Will had turned away from him. He wasn't the type to give up easily; adversity only made him cling all the more tightly.

Hannibal would do whatever he had to do to have Will back in his clutches. And Everett was absolutely positive that he wouldn't stop at murder, or something equally horrifying.

Did Will realise that? Everett asked himself as he looked across the table at Will again. Did he know just how dangerous Hannibal was to him, just how obsessed the other man was with him?

He wasn't sure just what Will thought about the strange relationship he'd had with Hannibal. Will had thought that they were friends, but it was obvious that Hannibal had never been a friend. Now, Will seemed to be at odds with his own feelings, though Everett didn't blame him for that.

It couldn't be easy to come to the realization that someone you had thought was a friend, someone you had trusted, was a murderer who had set you up -- and even tried to kill you.

Yes, Hannibal had tried to kill Will. That encephalitis had been induced, Everett was sure of it.

The thought of all that Hannibal had done to Will made Everett's blood boil. He could have _killed_ Will with the encephalitis; it was a potentially fatal disease. And Hannibal hadn't given a damn.

Will had been nothing but an experiment to him, a way to see how far he could push someone before they went over the edge, or shattered. What Everett really wanted was to push Hannibal in the same way, to move him towards the edge of madness and then push him over the edge into that deep, dark abyss.

Let Hannibal see what it was like. Let him find out what it felt like to be a helpless pawn, to be pushed to the edge time and time again just to see how long it would take him to topple over and disappear.

Everett's hands clenched into fists at his sides; with a deliberate concentration on the action, he managed to unclench them and flex his fingers. Getting angry wouldn't do them any good; he had been through all of the stages of grief when Luke had been murdered, and his anger was behind him now.

But that didn't mean that he couldn't be angry at what had been done to Will. He _was_ boiling mad about that, and he knew that it would take him a long time to get past that anger.

It wouldn't be completely gone until Hannibal was safely behind bars, and no longer a threat.

"What we really want is to put him away for good, and we can't do that without solid evidence," Will fretted, running a hand through his hair again. "I don't know how we're going to get that."

Everett didn't know, either. Hannibal wouldn't just freely supply the information they wanted -- not unless he had them in a position where they wouldn't be able to tell anyone else, which would mean their deaths. He wasn't going to put Will into that kind of danger, not after his boyfriend had just been released from jail.

Will had been in grave danger the entire time he'd known Hannibal, really, Everett told himself. And until Hannibal was put away, he always would be, given Hannibal's obsession with him.

He wasn't going to let that monster get to Will again, he vowed. The man he loved had already suffered too much at Hannibal's hands; he wasn't going to make Will go through more of that kind of mental torture. Hannibal wasn't going to be allowed to get to Will, not in any capacity. There had to be some way to catch him without putting Will in jeopardy.

But in his heart, he knew that the only way they would get Hannibal to come to them, to confess even one word of what he'd done, was to use Will as a tempting bait.

He didn't want to do it, but he knew that Will would insist.

"We'll find a way," he said softly, reaching across the table to take Will's hand. He had to touch his boyfriend, had to feel Will's nearness, the solidity of his presence.

He only hoped that he was telling the truth, and that they would indeed figure out a way to stop Hannibal. Until they did, Everett knew that they were both targets, and that they were living on borrowed time.


	24. Change the Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal intends to keep Will by his side and under his control, no matter what it takes.

Hannibal looked down at the notebook on his desk, frowning.

He had written down everything he could think of about Will and Everett, and the relationship that the two of them seemed to already have formed. the relationship that he was determined to rip apart.

Will didn't need that Englishman, he told himself, his inner voice almost a snarl. Will needed _him_. Will _belonged_ to him, and always would. This other man was an interloper, someone who threatened the stability of what Hannibal was working to build with Will.

Well, if he was honest, what he was really building was a gilded cage to keep Will imprisoned in. He wanted Will to be dependent on _him_ , not on anyone else.

Will was _his_. And he would remain so, no matter what happened.

If he had to, he would remove Everett Hobbs from this equation. He didn't know exactly how he would do it yet, but that seemed to be the only course of action that he could take.

He hadn't done much research into Hobbs' background, he thought, tapping his pen against his chin. He really should do so; he needed to know all about this man, to see if there were any weaknesses that he could exploit, anything that he could hold over the man's head if and when he needed that sort of leverage.

For some reason, the man looked familiar -- and not just because he was a cousin of the Hobbs family that he and Will had known in the States. There was something about those eyes that he couldn't get out of his head, something that made him feel as though he and Everett Hobbs had met before.

Whatever it was, he would find out, and he would discover some way of inserting a wedge between Hobbs and Will. He would pull them apart, and bring Will back to where he belonged.

With him. Only with him. No one else had a right to Will Graham's heart and soul.

Hannibal wrote a bit more in his notebook, questions that he wanted to find answers for on the internet. He didn't doubt that he would be able to track down more information; it was only a matter of time.

It would be interesting to unearth whatever it might be in this man's past that had made him so eager to take on the job of being Will's attorney. And it would also give him something to show Will, something that he might use to separate the two of them and make his prey vulnerable. Every little thing could be of use.

He wasn't going to let Everett Hobbs take Will away from him. He had chosen Will, and had worked hard to make the young man his. He wouldn't give Will up; he would simply change the equation until it worked in his favour.

Hobbs would discover that, Hannibal though with a grim smile. It would be a lesson he'd never forget.


	25. Expressions of Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett is sure that he could kill Hannibal and have no regrets about it whatsoever.

He could kill Lecter with no regrets at all.

Just the thought of that horrific monster made Everett clench his fists at his sides, his eyes narrowing. He despised that bastard; he hated even thinking about the man.

No, not a man. He refused to countenance Hannibal Lecter as being a man at all. After what he'd seen that predator do to Luke, he knew that they were dealing with an animal.

A rabid dog, that was how he saw Hannibal. He could almost see the froth at his mouth, the wildness of his eyes; he looked at Lecter and got the feeling that there was nothing behind those eyes, nothing but greed and a red haze, the remnants of the blood he bathed in.

There wasn't one shred of compassion in that gaze. He'd seen that when they had met, and that pathetic excuse for a human being had looked into his eyes.

He had seen nothing in that gaze but hatred -- and death. Yes, it ws more than obvious to him that Lecter was indeed the Chesapeake Ripper. It showed in those empty eyes.

Only someone with that kind of death in their eyes could commit such heinous murders.

How could anyone ever have thought that his Will could be a murderer on that scale? It was ludicrous that anyone could even begin to conceive of Will as a killer.

Anyone could look into Will's limpid blue eyes and see the compassion, the caring, that they held. In the depths of those eyes was a decent person, someone full of warmth and life.

Hannibal Lecter was an animal. He had seen proof of that when he'd come to for those few moments on the night when Lecter had killed Luke, and he'd seen the feral look on the man's face as he sawed Luke's leg off. That hadn't been the gaze of a sane person. It was the look of a crazed, rabid madman.

Even in the present day, when Lecter wasn't committing some grisly act and had just been looking at him with dislike, the empty, cold nothingness in that gaze sent a chill down his spine.

Yes, he would have absolutely problem pointing a gun direclty at that hideously ugly, snakelike face and pulling the trigger, seeing that reptilian countenance explode into blood and bone.

Everett was sure that would have to happen, at some point.

It might not be himself or Will who pulled the trigger, but he knew with certainty that the only way they would ever be safe was for Hannibal to die.

Will's safety, even his very life, would be threatened as long as Hannibal Lecter still walked this earth. And Everett had no doubt that his own life wouldn't be worth much if he and Hannibal should ever meet in some dark, deserted place and no one knew that the meeting was taking place.

Lecter would kill either of them with no compunction, so why shouldn't he feel the same? And he had good reason to want that monster dead, his own personal reasons for revenge.

Everett was fairly sure that no one would argue with his reasons if they knew them. He only wished that the law would let him put a gun to Lecter's head and blow him away.

But of course, if he tried to do something like that -- if he was ever lucky enough to be in that sort of position of power -- then _he_ would be seen as a killer, and Lecter was a victim, no matter what atrocities that animal had committed in the past. It was the way the world worked.

The law was set up to benefit the criminals, while their victims simply had to accept what was handed to them. If they found justice, all well and good, and if they didn't .... then it was just too bad.

He hated that way of looking at things, but there was nothing he could do to change it.

He'd had proof of how things worked long ago, when he first became a lawyer. He'd always hated that setup, and fought to change it, but there were too many corrupt people in power.

People who would no doubt support Lecter as some kind of victim if he was to mysteriously die, even if it came out that he was in fact the Chesapeake Ripper and had killed untold numbers of people.

There would be so many expressions of regret if their "hero" was to die unexpectedly, Everett thought, his lip curling. He had so many people fooled into thinking that he was some kind of benevolent, decent person; none of them had even though of bothering to lift the veil, to look behind the mask.

Lecter would never allow that mask to be ripped away, Everett told himself with a sigh. He kept that mask carefully in place, making sure that no one could ever see behind it to the monster beneath.

But he and Will would expose the hideousness that hid just below the surface, he vowed. They would show the world just what Hannibal Lecter was, no matter what it took.

That thought made Everett shiver as though cold water had been poured over him.

They weren't going to risk their lives to catch Hannibal. He refused to let Will do that, and he wasn't going to be stupid enough to throw himself in harm's way, either.

Yes, they both wanted to expose Hannibal's evil and put him behind bars. But neither of them should have to put their own lives at risk to bring his crimes to light and achieve justice.

Would there be any expressions of regret for either of them if Hannibal were to add them to his list of victims? Everett doubted it; he was sure that some people would express sorrow, but within a few days, they would be about their lives as though nothing had happened.

That was the main reason that he wanted to get Will away from here, to take him out of Wolf Trap and try to find a place of safety for them both, a place where Hannibal couldn't follow them.

But was there such a place in the world? Everett asked himself with a frown. He didn't think so. It would be all too easy for that monster to find them, no matter where they went.

The only way they would ever be safe from him was to kill him.

He could easily do that. He would have no problem putting a gun to that reptile's head and pulling the trigger. In fact, it would be something he'd relish doing.

It would give him closure for Luke's death, and it would cleanse the future for himself and Will. They would be able to make a new life free of any threat from Hannibal.

If only Hannibal was here, at this moment, standing right in front of him, Everett thought, his eyes narrowing. If he was, and Everett had a gun in his hand, he would shoot that bastard right between the eyes, and walk away whistling, with a light heart and a feeling of utter satisfaction.

He would have no expressions of regret, no feeling that he had done anything wrong. No, not at all. Instead, he would know that he had rid the world of a predator, and done society a good turn.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen, he told himself. But one day, he hoped that he and Hannibal Lecter would be able to face each other in a final confrontation, and that he would have the upper hand.

When that happened, he would shoot to kill -- with no regrets whatsoever.


	26. Ideas For the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though it seems that the life he's known for the past few years may be over, Will already has ideas about his future with Everett.

Well, _that_ had been a blow.

Will walked out of the building at Quantico that he'd come to think of as home over the past few years with his head down, not wanting to look at anything around him.

He knew that if he did, his heart would ache even more than it already did. He was walking through the grounds of the FBI Academy for the last time.

He'd been told, in the nicest possible way, that he could no longer teach at the Academy. He would still be able to do field work, of course, after he'd been cleared for it, but no parent would want him teaching their children, even though he had been exonerated of all the charges against him.

Even though he had been proven completely innocent, there would still be gossip about him, and there would still be people who would object to him keeping his teaching job.

So he was going to be thrown under the bus, looked at as being a pariah, not good enough to keep doing the job he loved, that he felt he was a perfect fit for.

Will couldn't help wondering just how much Jack Crawford had to do with this.

Jack had wanted him to stop teaching so much, to spend more time in the field. Well, now he would have that; Will _had_ to work in the field if he couldn't teach.

Of course, Jack just wanted him around so he could solve cases that Jack took the credit for, Will thought sourly as he made his way to his car. Jack wanted the glory, even though he used other people to get it. And if Will worked in the field all the time, then he could solve more cases.

Jack didn't give a damn what kind of a toll solving those cases took on him. He had no regard for Will as a person, as a human being. To Jack, he was just some kind of freak.

He'd thought that his boss was also his friend, but Jack had turned his back on him when all of Hannibal's obviously manufactured "evidence" had sent him to prison. Jack had believed that he was insane, that he was a murderer, that he belonged behind bars. He had sided with Hannibal.

It didn't matter that Jack had since reconsidered his opinions, and that he was now apparently on Will's side. It didn't matter at all. He hadn't been there when Will needed him.

Jack wasn't a real friend, and neither was anyone else in the FBI.

None of them could be trusted. The only person he trusted to have his back no matter what happened was Everett. His boyfriend was the only person who had been there for him.

He'd put his trust in too many of the wrong places in the past; he wasn't going to make that mistake again. From now on, Everett would be the only one who had his trust.

If only he hadn't been stupid enough to trust Hannibal, then none of this would have happened, Will thought bitterly as he pulled his keys out of his coat pocket and unlocked his car. That had been the problem all along -- he'd been too gullible, too trusting, and he'd paid the price for that.

But now, his eyes were opened. Now, he knew just what Hannibal was, and he was going to bring that monster down and make sure that he paid for his crimes.

The problem was that he had no idea how to do that, and even with Everett's help, he knew that it was going to be nearly impossible to prove that Hannibal was a killer.

People liked Hannibal. They believed in him. They were unable to see through the mask he covered his true self with -- or they just didn't _want_ to believe that someone who had such a charming and urbane exterior could be such a seething mass of evil just under the surface.

He'd seen that evil firsthand, Will told himself as he pulled into traffic. It had been close to him, even inside his head. And he had bee foolish enough to call it a friend.

He recoiled from even thinking of Hannibal as a friend now; he felt ashamed to know that he'd ever let such evil be a part of his life in any capacity.

Still, that time was in the past. It was a mistake that he'd learned from.

Maybe it was time for his life to take a different direction. He didn't want to keep working in the field exclusively; it would make him burn out, and he didn't want that to happen.

He was already near the end of his rope as far as using his empathic ability, Will mused as he pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store. Jack didn't care about that, though; he just wanted to exploit that ability, no matter what it might be doing to Will, both mentally and physically.

Maybe it was time for him to tell Jack to go to hell, and leave the FBI for good. He might not be able to find a teaching job anywhere, but he could do _something_.

He might be able to go back to being a cop. It wasn't what he wanted, but other than teaching, which might be a closed door to him anywhere, law enforcement was really the only thing he knew. And if he was honest, those two things were all that he'd ever wanted to do.

He had been lucky in being able to combine both of them, but it seemed that the time for doing that was over. He had to figure out what he wanted to do next, and go ahead from there.

And now, he had someone else to think of besides himself.

Whatever he chose to do in the future, Everett would be a part of it. He wasn't alone any more; he didn't have to make this decision on his own.

Everett would be there by his side, to help him with whatever he needed. He had someone to lean on now; he didn't have to feel that he was floundering along in the darkness.

The thought of Everett made him smile; his boyfriend would be waiting for him at home, ready to greet him with open arms and a smile that would warm his heart. It was time for him to stop thinking about what he was going to do about work in the future, and start planning a future with Everett.

What if they didn't even stay in this country? Will thought, his spirits lifting. They could go to England, live in Everett's home country. He could start a new life there.

It was definitely something that bore thinking about, and something that the two of them should discuss seriously. Once they had managed to catch Hannibal, they could decide what to do.

Who knew what could lie ahead of them?

Will smiled for what felt like the first time that day at the idea of moving to England with Everett once this was all over. It felt like the best idea he'd had in ages.

He went into the grocery store with a smile still on his face, getting a shopping cart and heading for the aisles, already thinking about what the future might bring his way.


	27. Not For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett's second encounter with Hannibal is no more pleasant than the first.

There had to be some way to prove that Hannibal Lecter had tried to frame Will.

Everett was fairly sure that Jack Crawford was beginning to suspect Hannibal, but suspicion wasn't enough. He had to have absolute proof of Lecter's evil before he went to the FBI.

The problem was that Lecter had always been too good at hiding what he truly was, he reflected as he pushed the grocery cart slowly around the store, picking up a loaf of bread and putting it into the cart. Lecter was good at wearing a mask, at dissembling and outright lying.

Will wasn't good at those things, not at all. And he needed to be, if he wanted to counter Lecter's lies and evil. Everett sighed, knowing that his boyfriend wouldn't go for that.

Will wanted to defeat Lecter and see him pay for his crimes, just as Everett did. But he wanted to do it honestly and openly -- and really, Everett wanted the same. He just knew that Lecter wasn't going to play by the rules, and he wished that Will didn't have to, either.

He took a box of oatmeal off the shelf, putting it next to the gallon milk in the cart. He'd offered to get groceries for Will, ostensibly to take his mind off of Lecter, but it didn't seem to be working.

That monster took up far too much of his thoughts.

Everett wished that he could just think about Will and their time together, and let himself enjoy being with his boyfriend without their problems all crowding into his mind.

But that was impossible, at least at this point. It might seem as though their problems had diminished now that Will was out of jail and had been proven innocent, but Everett was sure that the proof had come from Lecter, just as the so-called "evidence" that framed him had done.

Lecter was playing some kind of game with them, and Everett didn't doubt that it would prove to be deadly. And he knew that the brunt of Lecter's enmity was directed at him.

The man was jealous of him for being with Will.

He'd seen that jealousy in Lecter's eyes the one time they had met, and he still hadn't forgotten the words that had been spoken. He knew that he was considered the enemy.

He had good reason to be jealous, didn't he? Everett asked himself. After all, _he_ was the one who had captured Will's heart. If he was Lecter, he'd been ragingly jealous, too.

That jealousy would put Lecter off balance, make him do things that he normally wouldn't. And maybe, just maybe, he'd let himself get sloppy -- and they would be able to prove just what he was. That was Everett's hope, at any rate, though he wasn't entirely sure if it was justified.

After all, Lecter had been killing for a very long time. He was used to it; it was probably second nature to him by now. It wouldn't be easy to get him to slip up.

But they would, Everett told himself firmly. He would agitate the other man if he had to; he'd do nearly anything to get that monster to overstep his boundaries.

The one thing he most decidedly would _not_ do was place Will in any kind of danger, he told himself firmly. No matter what he had to do to ensure his boyfriend's safety, he would make sure it was done. He would protect Will with his life, if need be. Nothing would happen to the man he loved.

The best thing to do would be to get Will out of Wolf Trap for good, he told himself, frowning as he stared unseeingly at the boxes on the shelf. But Will didn't want to leave.

Will had a life here, and he had to respect that. He couldn't expect his boyfriend to simply pack everything up and leave, even though Everett thought that would be the best thing he could do.

"Hello, Mr. Hobbs. I hardly expected to see you here."

Everett's head jerked up, his eyes widening as the smooth voice registered in his brain. Of all the people he might have run into here, this was the last one he'd thought he would see.

"Hello, Mr. Lecter." He wasn't going to give this bastard the courtesy of using his title. Calling him "Doctor" when he was nothing but a murderer went against all of Everett's ethics.

"I expect you're grocery shopping for yourself and Will?" Hannibal asked, raising his brows and indicating Everett's cart. "He really should start eating more balanced meals. I've tried to get him to do so, but, unfortunately, he still seems to view Chinese takeout as fine cuisine."

"Different tastes," Everett said, his voice cold. He didn't want to talk to this man, didn't want to be around him. He hated even being in Hannibal's presence; he felt as though the evil might rub off on him.

"You know, I don't remember you, Mr. Hobbs," Hannibal told him, his voice controlled. "But I'm sure that you are a part of my past. Sooner or later, I _will_ bring that memory to the surface."

Everett only stared at him, his eyes narrowing.

He wanted to tell this bastard that he _should_ remember what he'd done, but he wasn't going to let Hannibal rattle him. He was going to keep his composure, and stay quiet.

"Do not think to take Will away from me," Hannibal continued, his voice still quiet, but with a hint of menace in his tone now. "He has a place and a purpose here, Hobbs. He is not for you, no matter what he may think at the moment. He is mine, and I do not give up what belongs to me easily."

At those words, Everett felt something within him snap. He had to clench his fists at his sides to keep himself from striking out at this reptilian monster in human form.

Will did not "belong" to anyone, least of all to this snake.

"Will belongs to himself," he gritted out through clenched teeth. "Not to me, and certainly not to you. I know what you tried to do to him, and I'll fight to keep him safe."

Hannibal took a step back, but his features didn't lose their stony impassiveness. "Do not think that you can challenge me and win, Mr. Hobbs," he said, his voice colder than ice. "I always get what I want in the end. If I want Will, then I will have him, and there is nothing you can do to stop that from happening."

With those words, he turned and walked away. Everett watched him walk out of the grocery store; only when Hannibal was gone did he allow himself to relax.

The bastard had apparently seen him come in here, and had followed him simply to force them to have that unpleasant little confrontation. Everett raised a hand to his face, surprised to find that he was shaking -- though it was with anger, not the fear that Hannibal had probably hoped to engender.

He'd practically made a threat against Will, and Everett wasn't going to take that lightly. He would do all that he could to protect his love, even if that meant resorting to violence.

He wasn't going to sit back and let that monster wreak havoc in their lives.

It was a good thing he'd gotten all of the groceries that were on their list, he told himself, taking a deep breath as he headed towards the checkouts. He couldn't think about such a mundane thing now.

He needed to get out of here, and get back to the house in Wolf Trap. For all he knew, Lecter could be headed there, to confront Will in some way -- or to harm him. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was run out of here, jump into his car, and get home as quickly as he could.

Instead, he forced himself to put the groceries on the counter and wait as they were totaled and bagged, then put back into the cart for him to stow in the car.

It all seemed to take forever, but finally, he was on his way home.

He would be there in fifteen minutes, he told himself. He didn't need to call Will. He would be able to tell when he pulled up in front of the house whether Lecter was there or not.

Everett pressed his foot to the gas pedal, feeling as though his heart was in his throat. If Lecter was anywhere near Will, there _would_ be a confrontation -- and it was one that he intended to win.


	28. Out of the Picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal wants to regain his control over Will's life by removing Everett -- perhaps permanently.

Hannibal looked down at the photograph in his hand, anger suffusing his features.

He wanted Everett Hobbs out of the way. Out of the picture completely, and out of Will's life for good. He'd had enough of Hobbs' interference.

If it weren't for that man, then Will would still be behind bars, where Hannibal would be free to study him -- and to taunt him and view his physical and emotional reactions.

Will had been trying to hide those reactions from him, it was true, but his paranoia became more obviously every day. He had been heading towards a complete breakdown, and Hannibal had wanted to facilitate that before he finally brought out the evidence that would lead to Will's exoneration.

When Will had been released from prison, then Hannibal would have taken the young man under his wing, and drawn him into the darkness that Hannibal lived and breathed.

He had wanted to fashion Will in his own image, to turn him into a carbon copy of himself. But Hobbs had come along and spoiled his plans, rescuing Will from his intended dark future.

Hobbs had to go. He had to be gotten rid of, obliterated from the scene.

The worst thing about the man's appearance was that it seemed Will was falling for him in the romantic sense. It was obvious to Hannibal that a relationship was developing.

He had never hated anyone as much as he hated Everett Hobbs. This man was destroying everything that he had so carefully planned, destroying the future he wanted for Will.

He couldn't be allowed to keep doing so, Hannibal decided, his eyes narrowing as he studied the handsome features of the man in the photograph. Will had to be made to see that his association with Hobbs could come to no good, that this man was all wrong for him.

But how was he to do that? Hobbs had quite effectively turned Will against him; he didn't doubt that the young man who was his obsession wanted nothing to do with him now.

And he couldn't get close enough to Will for any length of time to be able to pour poison into his mind about Hobbs and how wrong the man was for him, either.

He was no longer Will's psychiatrist; now that Will had an inkling that _he_ was the reason for that incarceration, he had stopped coming for his sessions. Hannibal knew that they would never take place again; he had forfeited having Will as a patient. It was one of the sacrifices he'd had to make.

Will wasn't going to come back to him, either as a patient or as a friend. So he had to find some way to get to Will, to be able to coax him away from the new man in his life.

How was he going to do that? He would have to formulate a plan, and put it into action very carefully. He couldn't let Will know what he was attempting to accomplish.

Perhaps he could get some help from Jack Crawford on this score.

Yes, that might be the way to go with this. He had always been able to easily convince Jack of his good intentions; it shouldn't be hard to enlist his help.

He would be able to blacken Hobbs' name, as well, caution Jack that this man meant Will no good. And if he knew Jack Crawford, he would step in to try and help Will.

With any luck, Hobbs could be sent back to his home overseas, and be separated from Will. That would give Hannibal the opportunity to do some more character assassination, and he would be able to convince Will that his association with Hobbs would have been no good for him.

Yes, that was the way to go, he told himself with a satisfied nod. Much better than the messy end that he had originally planned for the man who was now the fly in his ointment.

It would be far too unpalatable to make the man a substantial part of his next dinner party, Hannibal thought, wrinkling his nose. He had too much of a distaste for Hobbs, in more ways than one.

No, better to simply send him away, out of Will's life.

If he had to take care of the man permanently, he could do so at a later date. It wasn't necessary at the moment; that would take too much time away from his primary goal.

And his primary goal was to have Will back under his aegis, to make sure that the object of his obsession was completely under his control.

If the time eventually came when he had to remove Hobbs from the picture permanently, then he wouldn't hesitate to do so. In fact, he would take great pleasure in it, especially now that he had remembered just where he knew the other man from, and why he had looked vaguely familiar.

He would dispatch Hobbs in the same way that he'd done the man's fiancé, and he would take great pleasure in doing so. He would have no regrets about what he did.

In a way, Hannibal hoped that he _would_ need to take Everett Hobbs out of the picture. It would give him a chance to work off a bit of the rage he felt at the man.

But for the moment, he had to be careful. Hobbs couldn't meet his end. Not yet.

His mind was already working at a way to get rid of Everett as he put the photograph away in a file he had in the bottom drawer of his desk, a file that was growing fairly thick.

Soon, he thought, a smile curving his lips. Soon, Will would be back under his wing, where he belonged. And Everett Hobbs would no longer be a thorn in his side.


	29. Everything To Live For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were days in prison when Will didn't think he wanted to wake up again. But now, being with Everett gives him a reason to face each day.

"I really didn't expect to wake up again when I was in jail," Will told Everett, his voice very soft.

The two of them were sitting next to the lake on a blanket that Everett had spread out, Will's head in his lap. He was stroking the other man's soft dark curls and listening to him speak.

"But you _did_ wake up to a new day every day that you were there," Everett pointed out. "And you eventually got away from that place, Will."

Will nodded, looking up at him with a smile. "Yeah, I did, thanks to you," he said softly, taking Everett's free hand in his own and kissing his fingertips. "If you hadn't been working to get me out, and coming to see me every day and giving me hope, I might not have made it through."

Everett shook his head, a small smile playing around his lips. "I don't believe that, Will," he said, his voice very soft. "You don't give yourself enough credit for being a strong person."

Will didn't answer, only looked up at Everett, taking in his boyfriend's handsome features. The face that had become so familiar, and so loved, in such a short time.

Love? Yes. He was in love with this man.

He'd fallen in love with Everett when he was still behind bars, when they couldn't touch. He was surprised that the two of them hadn't consummated their relationship yet.

But something in him still hung back, still wasn't ready for that final surrender. Not that he was afraid of it, exactly, but because he wasn't quite ready to make a complete commitment.

He'd learned the folly of trusting his own heart, even though something told him that Everett was like no one he'd ever known before and would never harm him in any way. He didn't trust himself to make the best choices for himself, not when it came to people he was close to.

He'd made a horrible mistake in trusting Hannibal too much -- and look where it had gotten him. He wasn't going to leap into a friendship -- or a relationship -- again.

This was much more than the friendship he had thought he'd shared with Hannibal, though. This was the man he wanted to be with for the rest of his life.

He wanted this relationship more than he had ever wanted anything. He wanted it to grow and develop, to still be strong and lasting when they were both old men. He wanted to spend his life with Everett, to give this man his heart, body, and soul. He'd known that from the first time they'd met.

Will didn't know just _how_ he had known that Everett was the one for him -- it was just something that had been evident to him when they'd first looked into each other's eyes.

But a part of him was still afraid of trusting too deeply, of giving himself completely. He would have to get past that, but once he did, he would be ready.

And really, if he was honest about it, he'd already given Everett his heart.

He really hadn't expected to wake up every day when he was in jail. He had thought that he would simply fade away, that he would die behind bars with no one to care.

That was before Everett had come into his life, and given him hope. Now, he had a reason to wake up in the mornings, and a reason to look forward to the future.

"If you hadn't woken up one day, then I would never have been able to touch you, or hold you, or be with you," Everett said softly, gazing into Will's eyes. "And that would have been a tragedy. Not being with you would have been the worst thing that could possibly have happened to me."

"And to me, too," Will answered, not looking away from that intense gaze. "I want to be with you, Everett. Completely, in every way. You just need to give me some time."

Everett nodded, a smile curving his lips. He leaned down and brushed those lips against Will's, the kiss as light and gentle as a soft summer breeze.

"I will," he whispered. "We have all the time in the world, love."

Will couldn't hold back a smile at those words. Everett was right. They _did_ have all the time in the world. They were together now, and they didn't have to rush.

"I'm glad I _did_ wake up every day when I was in there," he said, his voice barely a whisper, though his words were strong and firm. "Because one day when I woke up, I met you."

He could see the love in Everett's eyes as his boyfriend leaned down to kiss him again; this time, Will wrapped his arms around the other man's neck, not wanting to ever let him go. He wanted Everett to kiss him forever, to feel as though they were locked in each other's arms.

When he'd spent all of that time behind bars, he had gotten to the point where he hadn't really _wanted_ to wake up again. He hadn't thought he had anything to live for.

But now, he had everything to live for. He had a bright and happy future ahead of him with the man he loved, and he wasn't going to let anything hold him back from that future.

He would look forward to waking up every day from now on.


	30. A Chink in Their Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is determined to find Will and Everett's weakness and use it against them.

Will was Hobbs' weakness. He could sense it.

That thought made Hannibal smile, and he almost wanted to rub his hands together in glee, just as a wicked wizard in some Disney film would.

But of course, he wouldn't do that. It would be juvenile, and a waste of time. Because even though he was going to lay his plans carefully, and he was convinced that he _would_ have WIll back under his control again, Hobbs was still a grey area to him.

The man had courage, he had to admit that. He felt a certain grudging admiration for what was within the other man; he would be a formidable enemy.

Still, he intended to prevail. He always won his battles.

This one might prove harder to win than some in the past, but that didn't matter. He always enjoyed a challenge, and it could be that Hobbs would prove to be just that.

He would find the chink in their armor, and he would exploit it. He relished the thought of letting both Everett Hobbs and Will Graham dance to his piping, letting them dangle on a chain before he cut the wires and took Will back to himself, leaving Hobbs out of the picture.

If he had to kill the other man, that didn't really matter. Perhaps it would even be the best thing to do, to show Will just how how much in control he was.

Taking Will's lover away from him would be the action that would sap Will's strength, take away his will to be his own person. That would make Will irrevocably his.

And that was exactly what he would do -- in front of Will. He knew that those two were each other's weakness; his love for Hobbs was the weakness he could exploit in Will, use it to bring the young man to his side, and to bring Hobbs down for good. He would take pleasure in doing so.

It would be a cruel lesson for Will, but a necessary one. He had to understand that he _belonged_ to Hannibal, and that no one would take him away again.

If it broke Will's spirit, then he would only be more malleable.

Will and Hobbs were each other's weaknesses, and he would exploit that fact. He would rip the two of them apart, and show Will where he truly belonged.

Hannibal's hands clenched into fists at his sides, a murderous tide of anger surging through him. Will Graham was _his_. Everett Hobbs had no right to come into their lives, to disrupt the plans he'd made for Will. Now he would have to revise those plans, which was rather annoying.

He would make Hobbs pay for causing that disruption, he thought, the corners of his lips turning down in a scowl. He'd make the man wish he'd never heard of Will Graham.

He'd found the chink in their armor, and he would use it to destroy them.


	31. Vulnerability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Everett's walls have come down since he's met Will, and he can't help but wonder if he's become too vulnerable because of that.

He couldn't change the past, or who he was.

Everett leaned his head against his hand, closing his eyes. He was going over all of the paperwork he had on Hannibal yet again, but coming up with nothing new.

He _knew_ that Hannibal was responsible for untold numbers of murders. He knew that Hannibal was the killer that the FBI was searching for.

Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper. He knew it in his heart and soul, just as Will did, but they had no way to prove their knowledge. Hannibal had covered his tracks too carefully, and more than that, he had managed to ingratiate himself with the law here. They were on _his_ side.

Yes, Will had been proven innocent, but Everett knew that a cloud of suspicion would always hang over him. People would remember that he'd once been in jail.

A murder accusation didn't just go away, even when the person was cleared of all charges. The only way to prove WIll's innocence conclusively was to arrest the _real_ killer.

This experience would change Will's life forever.

Everett sighed again, feeling a wave of helplessness wash over him. All of this had changed his life, too. He'd changed as a person, more than he'd thought he would.

He wasn't the same person he had been before Hannibal Lecter had wreaked havoc on his life. He was harder, more irascible, more determined. He had grown a thick skin.

Before, he'd been softer, more vulnerable. Now, he had built walls around himself -- and Will Graham had been the only person who had been able to get through those walls. Everett still wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. He wasn't used to opening himself up to so many emotions.

But he _did_ know that he wanted Will to stay in his life. He felt so much for Will that hadn't felt in far too long, and didn't want to give that up.

Even though everything that he'd been through had changed him in a lot of ways, under all of those changes he was still the same person, with the same hopes and dreams.

He might want to believe that he was tough, that he'd turned hard and cold, but he knew that wasn't entirely true. He _had_ changed, but not at his core. No matter what he'd changed of who he'd been in the past, one thing would remain the same -- who he was. And that was a fate he could never escape.

He would always be that same vulnerable, emotional boy, no matter how many layers of protection he tried to hide those emotions under. He would never be able to obliterate his deepest self.

Underneath his resolve to put Hannibal behind bars, he was still the scared young man he had been after his first encounter with Hannibal. That fear was still a part of him.

Everett took a deep breath, straightening up in his chair.

But he was going to fight that fear, rather than let it overcome him. He was going to push it aside, do battel with it, and put it in its place. He would do it for Will.

Will needed him, just as much, probably even more, than he needed Will. His boyfriend needed a strong man to lean on, a man to stand beside him and fight evil with him.

He would be what WIll needed. He would put that scared boy behind him, just as he'd been doing for all of this time, and he would keep the past where it belonged. He might still be the same person, but he had grown and changed, and he had become much stronger than he'd ever thought he cuold.

Not only that, but he had Will in his life now. He had no reason to cling to the past. It was over and done, and he had moved on from it. He couldn't bring that past back.

He could never recapture the person he had been, Everett told himself firmly. And really, he didn't want to. The person he'd become was much stronger, much more capable.

He liked who he had become-- and more importantly, _Will_ liked him as he was.

He'd managed to change who he had been in the past, surrounding himself by walls that Will had broken down. And he was finding that he _wanted_ those walls to stay down. 

Everett closed his eyes, conceding one thing in his mind. He might have been able to change who he'd been in some ways, but the basics still remained.

He hadn't been able to completely change himself. He was still vulnerable -- to his own emotions. He was even more open now than he'd been then; now that Will had come into his life, all of his walls had come crumbling to the ground, and he knew that he couldn't put them back up again.

Would that be a disadvantage in bringing Hannibal to justice? He hoped not; he hoped that Hannibal wouldn't be able to bring him to his knees again by exploiting his vulnerability.

He couldn't escape who he was, and who he had been. And maybe, Everett told himself, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing, in the long run.

Will wasn't his vulnerability. Will was his strength.

Who he was might not have changed at the core of his being, but he had learned a lot in the past few years. And now that he had Will by his side, he had a reason to go on.

Everett took one deep breath, then another, a smile curving his lips as he did so. Hannibal was going to have to deal with two very formidable enemies before all of this was over.


	32. Prince Charming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett and Hannibal have an unexpected encounter and battle of words in a parking lot.

What could he do to prove Hannibal's guilt? What was he missing?

Everett scowled as he pushed open the front door of the library, where he'd been for the past several hours. He had wanted to do some research, and it had seemed like the right place.

But in spite of scouring everything he could find about the Chesapeake Ripper, he hadn't been able to find one shred of proof that could lead back to Hannibal Lecter.

He should have expected that, though, shouldn't he? he asked himself with a soft sigh as he made his way out to his car in the parking lot. He knew from experience that Hannibal didn't leave clues behind at his killings. He was far too careful for that. He knew how to cover his tracks well.

He and Will weren't going to find any clues out in the open. He should know that by now. No, they would have to dig deep for them, search for anything that Hannibal might have left behind.

Sooner or later, the bastard was going to slip up, Everett thought, his lip curling in disdain. And then they would have him right where they wanted him. Behind bars.

"Hello, Everett. Fancy meeting you here."

His head jerked up, his eyes widening at the sound of that smooth, accented voice, the syllables dripping with ice. Or was that venom he heard behind the innocuous greeting?

Hannibal was standing there, not five feet away from him, his own car keys in his hand. Everett knew that he hadn't been in the library, so what was he doing here? There was plenty of parking around; he hadn't had to park here in the library lot and go somewhere else.

For just a moment, his throat closed, his mouth went dry. Was Hannibal following him? _Stalking_ him? Was he more a victim than a predator, yet again?

No, he wasn't going to give in to that fear. Not this time.

"Hello, Hannibal." Everett kept his voice calm, not betraying the rapid beating of his heart. "I was just doing a bit of .... research. I needed to make use of the library."

"I can't help but wonder what you would have to research. After all, Will has been cleared of all charges. It has been proven conclusively that he did not commit those murders. He isn't the Chesapeake Ripper," Hannibal said, shrugging as though the subject didn't interest him. 

Everett squared his shoulders, baring his teeth in a smile that didn't reach the icy depths of his pale eyes. "There are a few things about the case that I'm still looking into."

He wanted Hannibal to leave it at that, to bid him a good day, get into his car, and drive away. But he knew that wasn't going to happen. 

He had the odd feeling that Hannibal was following him, trying to find out what he was doing, attempting to suss out what he knew about the Chesapeake Ripper case, if he had found out anything new. He hadn't, but he wasn't about to let this monster know that. He wanted to keep Hannibal guessing.

It flashed into his mind that doing that might be dangerous, but he was committed to stopping this man in any way he could. If that meant taking some risks, then so be it.

Hannibal stepped closer to him, his voice a low, sibilant hiss when he spoke.

"Leave it alone, Hobbs." The words were barely a whisper, but Everett heard them loud and clear in the silence around them. "You may not like what you could find."

Taking a deep breath, Everett forced himself to meet Hannibal's eyes, startled at the anger he saw there. He was sure that he and Will were getting close to something, even if they didn't yet know just what it was. The proof was there, in Hannibal's gaze, in the fact that he was here at all.

If he and Will weren't on the right track, if they weren't making some headway into finding some mistake that Hannibal had made, then he wouldn't be here, making oblique threats.

"I won't stop until I find the real killer," he said, his voice strong and steady.

Hannibal took another step nearer to him, his expression stormy. "Stay out of what you don't have any need to interfere with," he said, his voice almost a sneer. "Or you could get hurt."

"You're a real Prince Charming, aren't you, Hannibal?" Everett returned, his own voice calm, despite the rapid beating of his heart. "Threats don't serve you well."

He stared into the other man's eyes, willing Hannibal to say something, anything, that would point towards his guilt. Instead, the other man merely smiled, stepping back and raising an eyebrow. "I don't believe that was a threat, Everett. Merely a warning that you shouldn't poke hornets' nests."

"I have ample protection against stings," Everett told him, shrugging as he opened his car door. "And so does Will. We plan to move very carefully."

"You should do that," Hannibal told him, his tone almost conversational now. "But be sure that you don't take any wrong turns, They could be more dangerous than you know."

With that, he turned and walked away with rapid strides.

Everett was left to stare after him, wondering just what Hannibal had up his sleeve. Those words had been a threat; there was no doubt in his mind of that fact.

Hannibal wasn't the type of man to issue threats unless he fully intended to follow up on them. Everett knew that he wand Will would have to be more careful than ever, watching their backs, and moving forward cautiously. Hannibal now knew that they were on his trial.

He definitely _wasn't_ a Prince Charming, Everett thought as he started his car and pulled out of the parking space. He was more like a Prince Nightmare.

That thought almost made him laugh. Hannibal was indeed the stuff of nightmares.

He'd been Everett's worst nightmare for years, and now that he was closer than ever to proving that Hannibal was one of the most horrific monsters the world had ever known, he wasn't going to stop.

Yes, it might be dangerous. But he was willing to face that danger if it meant bringing Hannibal to justice, and finding some measure of closure for the past so he could move into his own future with Will.


	33. In Over Their Heads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett is determined to be the winner in this battle between himself and Hannibal.

Everett leaned back in his desk chair, closing his eyes.

He rested his head on his hand, feeling the beginnings of a headache stirring behind his eyes. A bad one, the sort of migraine that was brought on by too much stress.

Had he bitten off more than he could chew in going after Hannibal? Had he made a mistake, and was he putting himself and Will in harm's way needlessly? Maybe he should just back off, and try to disappear into the woodwork with Will, get out of Hannibal's line of vision.

No, they wouldn't be able to do that. His last encounter with Hannibal had proven to him that the monster wasn't going to stop his relentless pursuit of Will.

He wasn't going to let Hannibal have the man he loved.

Not without putting up one hell of a fight, Everett told himself grimly. If it came down to that, he would sacrifice himself to keep Will safe.

He didn't intend to sacrifice himself. He wanted to have a future with Will -- a long and happy one. He wasn't willing to give up that future; he wouldn't let Hannibal win this round. He might have won in their first skirmish, but at that time, Everett hadn't known what he was up against.

Now, he did, and he was determined to get the upper hand. Hannibal had taken one man from him; he wasn't going to be allowed to do the same thing again.

He didn't know how he was going to stop Hannibal; he only knew that he would. He might have bitten off more than he could chew, but he would find a way to win this battle.

Everett didn't doubt that he and Hannibal were locked in a battle for Will, not only in the physical sense, but in a deeper way, as well. Whoever won this fight would have Will, body and soul. And he didn't doubt that Hannibal only desired Will because he was forbidden fruit.

Hannibal didn't love Will. He would only use the young man and throw him away when he tired of him. Everett wasn't about to let Will suffer that kind of fate.

He would win this battle, no matter what he had to do.

Yes, he had bitten off a lot when he had come here determined to get Will out of prison. And he certainly hadn't been expecting to fall in love.

But life led everyone down unexpected paths, didn't it? And he was diverting from his original intention. He _was_ going to make sure that Hannibal Lecter was put behind bars for the rest of his life. Only now, he wasn't working alone. He had Will by his side to help him.

Maybe he had set himself a hard task to accomplish, but it wasn't insurmountable. He just had to figure out a way to outsmart Lecter. He was capable of that.

If he wasn't, then he and Will were in way over their heads.


	34. Telling It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett knows that the time has come to tell Will everything about his past -- including why he's so eager to see Hannibal behind bars.

"He scares me," Will whispered, his voice low and husky. "More than he should."

Everett wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, holding Will close against him. "He's a terrifying man, Will. I find it hard to believe that you could have ever been friends with him."

If Will knew all that Hannibal had done to him, if Everett told him about his past knowledge of the man, he was sure that Will would be even more scared of his one-time friend. But he wasn't going to tell, not if he didn't have to. Will didn't need to know about that.

Or did he? Everett mused. Would it be best for Will to know everything about the man who had once been his friend, to know exactly what he was capable of?

Still, didn't Will already know that, from the Chesapeake Ripper crimes?

It was obvious that Hannibal was capable of horrors that would turn most people's stomachs. Will didn't need to be told that. He'd already seen the evidence for himself.

Will was all too aware of what Hannibal was capable of, but Everett had to wonder if he had ever imagined those many horrors turned upon himself. 

Everett knew what it was like to see those horrors visited upon someone he loved. He didn't want Will to think about it, but how could he not? He had to realize that Hannibal would inevitably look at him as a victim. Everett was sure that their nemesis already saw Will in that light.

Everett felt that Hannibal had seen Will as a victim right from the start. Their friendship had been nothing but a farce to gain Will's trust so Hannibal could then move in for the kill.

He still hadn't told Will about his unpleasant encounter with Hannibal; he hadn't wanted to upset his boyfriend. But he knew that at some point, he would have to.

Will deserved to know about the oblique threats that Hannibal had made.

Everett couldn't help worrying that Will might try to take matters into his own hands and go after Hannibal himself, no matter how much the other man frightened him.

Will was that kind of man, he thought with a soft sigh. The kind of man who would sacrifice himself if he thought that it would keep those he cared about safe.

"What was that sigh for?" Will asked, his voice very soft. He wound his arms around Everett's neck, pressing his slender body against his boyfriend's under the covers. "I know what you're thinking about, Everett. You're worried about me. He made threats, didn't he?"

How was it possible that Will seemed to _know_ just what he was thinking? It was amazing how their minds were always on the same wavelength.

Ah well, Everett thought with a smile, it was just more proof that he and Will were perfect for each other. And all the more reason to share everything with the man he loved.

"I just ...." Everett took a deep breath, closing his eyes. It was time to tell Will that he'd had a confrontation with Hannibal, to see what Will thought about it. "Hannibal and I met. On the street. I don't think it was an accident, love. I believe that he was lying in wait for me, to threaten me."

Will sat up, looking alarmed. "What did he say?" His hands clenched into fists; Everett could see the anger flood into his face. "What did that bastard threaten you with?"

Everett took Will's hands in his own, holding them to his lips and kissing each palm in turn. "Relax, Will," he said, his voice very soft. "He didn't frighten me away. He never could."

He gathered Will into his arms, feeling the other man gradually relax in his embrace.

"He's the Chesapeake Ripper, you know," Will said after what felt like a very long silence. "I've known that for a while. I just don't have the evidence to prove it."

"I know he is," Everett said, his voice quiet. "I've known it from the beginning, too. I've never doubted that he's the real killer, Will. I knew that you were jailed for his crimes."

Will pulled back slightly, gazing into Everett's eyes as though he was searching for something there, the answer to a silent question that he hadn't yet been able to put into words. "You've dealt with him in the past, on a personal level," he finally said. "I should have guessed that, shouldn't I?"

Slowly, reluctantly, Everett nodded. "Yes, I have. That's one of the reasons why I took on your case, Will. I thought that I could possibly lose the case, but I didn't expect to lose my heart."

"You're not the only one," Will said softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against Everett's lips. "We'll beat him, Everett. I know we will. We _have_ to."

Everett nodded, wishing that he could be as sure as Will seemed to be.

He was right about one thing. They _had_ to beat Hannibal. If they didn't, then not only would the two of them very likely lose their lives, but hundreds of other people would, as well.

They couldn't let that happen. They couldn't let Hannibal keep clearing a path of destruction through people's lives as he'd been doing. He and Will had the tools to stop him; they simply had to put those tools to good use, and find evidence that would conclusively prove Hannibal's guilt.

It wouldn't be easy. But then, was anything worth doing _ever_ easy? he asked himself. It might involve some sacrifice and hard choices, but those choices had to be made.

They were the only ones who could bring Hannibal down.

Right now, he had to tell Will about the past, to let him know everything. They couldn't hold any secrets back from each other. Not any longer. There was no reason to.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled Will closer against him, letting the other man settle into the loving circle of his arms and feeling Will's own strong arms wrap around his waist. Everett closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the sensation of being held by the man he loved.

He was comfortable with Will, in a way that he'd never been with anyone else. They could build a future together, once Hannibal was no longer hanging over them like a black cloud.

They had to remove that cloud from their horizon.

"There are some things I need to tell you about my past," he began, whispering his next words into Will's hair. "I think you need to know them, to understand my obsession with catching Hannibal."

Everett began to talk, pouring his heart out, telling it all, wanting Will to know everything about the past. Once he did, the road would be clear for them to head towards their future.

A future that they would spend together.

A long and happy future, one that Hannibal Lecter couldn't rip into shreds.


	35. Rue the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though Hannibal may have won the last round, Will and Everett refuse to accept defeat in the battle that rages between the three of them.

No wonder Everett hated Hannibal so much.

Will sighed softly, grasping his boyfriend's hand and twining their fingers together. He couldn't even imagine the kind of horror that Everett had lived through.

He didn't want to think about how he would feel if it had been Everett who had been murdered in such a horrible, brutal way, and he had discovered the body. He knew that something within him would be broken -- not just his heart, but his spirit and his will to go on, as well.

Everett must have felt that way when his lover had been killed. And he had gone on this crusade to stop the person who had committed that murder.

Will didn't blame him in the least for not accepting defeat.

He wouldn't have done that, either, he told himself firmly. He would have been just as strong as Everett was, and he would have seen this through to the bitter end.

Everett was the most incredible person he'd ever known. He was strong, and he was determined. Will had no doubt that his boyfriend would bring Hannibal to justice. Everett would achieve his objective; he was the kind of man who would always manage to get the job done.

And he would be right there by Everett's side through it all. He intend to help the other man in any way he could; they would put Hannibal behind bars together.

"We won't accept defeat," he murmured, squeezing Everett's hand gently. "We'll keep working to make sure he ends up in jail. We owe that to ourselves."

"Yes, we do," Everett agreed, returning the gentle pressure of Will's hand. "I didn't give up before, and that's paid off. If I hadn't kept on searching for a way to show the world what he really is, then I wouldn't have found you." His voice was very soft and husky, the love evident in his tone.

"If you hadn't found me, I'd probably still be in jail," Will said, swallowing back the lump that had risen to his throat. "And I'd never have found real love."

He turned his head to gaze into Everett's eyes.

No, they wouldn't accept defeat. There was no reason for them to do so. Hannibal might not be in jail yet, but he hadn't won this round. Not by a long shot.

Somehow, the two of them would expose him. They would show the world what a monster Hannibal was, and they would put him behind bars for the rest of his life. Then, the two of them would be vindicated, and Everett's former lover would be avenged. It would all have worked out.

He would have his own revenge, too, Will told himself with a grim inward smile. He would be the one to come out on top this time. He would win this cat and mouse game.

Hannibal would rue the day that he'd tried to take the two of them on.


	36. Not Admitting Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett tries to convince Will that moving to London with him is only retreating for a while, not admitting defeat in their war against Hannibal.

"Moving to London with me is not admitting defeat, Will."

Everett leaned back in the easy chair, putting down his empty tea mug on the table in front of the couch where Will sat. "I don't think it could be considered running away, either."

"It is," Will said, his voice very low. He didn't look up at Everett; he just stared into his own mug of tea, as though he could find some kind of answer in the amber liquid there. "It's me running away from Hannibal, and from my fears. I can't let myself do that. I can't run and hide."

"It's not hiding," Everett protested, frowning and shaking his head. "You're simply moving on to a better life than you could have here. Everyone will see that."

But Will only shook his head, mirroring Everett's movement.

"No, they won't," he said, his tone decisive. "They'll think that I'm running away from the accusations that were made, even though I've been proven innocent."

"No one will think that," Everett said firmly. "Not the people who know you, anyway. And who cares what other people who don't know you might think? They're not important, Will. What's important is that you get away from here and start fresh, without Hannibal in your life."

"I can keep him out of my life even if I stay here," Will said with a frown. "What, do you honestly think that I'd have a damn thing to do with him now, after all he's done?"

Everett shook his head, sighing softly. "No, I know that you wouldn't. But still, I think that you need to get away from this area. I think you need to be somewhere .... safer."

Will stared at him for what seemed like a very long time before he spoke again. "You don't think he through with me," he finally said, his voice a mere whisper. "You think that he'll keep coming after me, don't you? That he'll keep going until he has what he wants."

Everett was forced to nod reluctantly in agreement with Will's words. "Yes, I do. He's obsessed with you, Will. As long as you're here, you'll be a target for him."

Will finally nodded, looking down into his tea again. "You're right."

"You're not running from him, Will," Everett said softly, leaning forward and reaching out to take the other man's hand. "You're not admitting defeat."

"I'm just retreating. For now, anyway," Will said with a wry smile, twining the fingers together. "I think I need to put some distance between myself and Hannibal. Not that I'm ever going to fall for anything he says again, but I'll feel safer if I'm not where he can easily find me."

"So will I," Everett said softly, squeezing his boyfriend's hand gently. He let out a sigh of relief, glad that Will had finally agreed with him on this issue.

They needed to get away from Hannibal's hunting ground. At least for a while.


	37. Running Out of Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett is frustrated that he can't seem to find even one link that could tie Hannibal to the Chesapeake Ripper murders.

Everett frowned down at the papers on his desk, trying to concentrate.

He had pictures of all the crime scenes associated with the Chesapeake Ripper; he'd looked at them all for what seemed like hours. He knew all of the grisly details.

They had everything that they needed in those pictures. Even though he hadn't seen the actual crime scenes -- at least most of them -- he felt as though he'd been there.

Those pictures told the stories that they needed to tell -- and Everett was sure that somewhere, in at least one of those crime scenes, at least one of the snapshots taken from them, that there was a clue, no matter how minute, to the person who had committed those crimes.

Somewhere in those pictures was the proof that it had been Hannibal Lecter who was the perpetrator of those horrors. He just had to bring it to the attention of the world.

He sighed, resting his head on his hand, closing his eyes. How could he think that he could bring that fact to light, when no one else had been able to do so?

Maybe he was expecting too much of himself.

If Will hadn't been able to prove that it was Hannibal who had done such terrible things, Will with his marvelous ability, then how could he think that _he_ would be able to prove Hannibal's guilt?

Still, he had to try. He had no choice in the matter; he was the only person who seemed to care enough about putting Hannibal behind bars, other than Will. The FBI wasn't even considering Hannibal a suspect; Jack Crawford had turned away from that idea, and he and Will were on their own.

There was something in these pictures, some clue, no matter how small, that should be able to convince the FBI to take a closer look at Hannibal Lecter's activities.

The problem was finding that minuscule clue.

Everett sighed, opening his eyes again and staring at the pictures scattered in front of him. He knew that the clue was here somewhere. It had to be.

But he had no idea where to start trying to unravel the intricate maze that would lead to that clue. He'd looked at the pictures so many times that they were now blurring before his eyes.

He needed fresh eyes, really. Will should look at these pictures again, but he didn't think that was going to help too much. Will had also seen them so many times that he could easily overlook the one thing that might lead their pathway directly to Lecter's door.

How could they prove that it was Lecter who had done this? How could they suddenly pull a rabbit out of a hat and present that proof to the world?

This was going to be much harder than he'd originally thought.

For a moment, just a brief moment, Everett considered putting all of this aside, leaving the country with WIll and going back to Britain, to make a life together there.

But that could never happen, not while Lecter was still free. He would come after Will; Everett had no doubt of that. Will could never be safe with that madman on the loose.

Hannibal would never relinquish what he thought of as his.

And as far as he was concerned, Will _belonged_ to him. His last face-to-face meeting with Everett, brief though it had been, had proved that beyond a doubt.

The thought of that monster getting his hands on Will made Everett shiver; he didn't want to think about what Lecter would do to exact his revenge. And Everett had no doubt that he _would_ take revenge; that was how the mind of a serial killer, a conscienceless murderer, worked.

He had to find something in these pictures that would convince the FBI to investigate Hannibal Lecter. If he didn't, then neither he nor Will could ever feel safe again.

He bent over the pictures again, his gaze combing them for whatever he could find .But try as he might, he still came up empty. No new clues were presenting themselves to him.

Something was missing, and he didn't know what it was.

How was he supposed to find that missing piece, that one single clue, when he and countless other people had studied these pictures time and time again and found nothing?

Maybe he was barking up the wrong tree, he finally told himself, leaning back in the chair again. Maybe the clue wasn't in the pictures, or even in the crime scenes. Maybe it was in Will's mind; maybe the clue would be found in what Will had experienced when he had gone into the killer's world.

Or maybe the clue would come from Lecter himself. Everett sighed again at that thought, this time in frustration. No, Lecter would never give up a clue that would help them.

It looked as though they were stymied in every direction, with nowhere to turn.

He wasn't going to risk Will's safety by asking him to go back into Lecter's mind. He didn't know what that kind of contact might do to Will. It was far too risky.

And he also didn't know if Lecter would somehow be able to sense that contact, to know that Will was trying to get back into his thoughts, and act accordingly.

Everett shuddered at the thought of Lecter coming after Will, of him trying to take some kind of revenge out on the man Everett loved. No, he wasn't going to take that chance. Nothing, not even catching Lecter sooner, was worth risking Will's well-being. That wasn't even an option.

Of course, if there was another killing, the FBI might _expect_ Will to go back into the Chesapeake Ripper's mind. They would cross that bridge when and if they came to it.

He hoped they wouldn't, though. More and more, he wanted to get Will out of Wolf Trap, away from the FBI, to take him to London and start a life together there.

That is, if they were allowed to do so, he thought with another heavy sigh.

The FBI might not want to let Will out of their sight. As far as they were concerned, he was still their best link to the Chesapeake Ripper, and they would be reluctant to let him go.

Even if Will were to state that he wanted to leave the FBI, they would try to find some way to keep him tied to them, even to play on his conscience by telling him that he had to help them find this killer. They would appeal to his innate sense of justice, and Everett knew that Will would listen to that.

So it still came down to finding out any clues that they could from these pictures, or from the accounts of the crime scenes, or the forensic evidence left behind.

None of which seemed a very viable solution to him.

He had to find the clue that would lead the authorities to Hannibal. And that clue had to be rock-solid; it had to provide incontrovertible proof that Lecter was indeed the Chesapeake Ripper.

Once he found that clue, then he and Will would be safe, and Lecter would be behind bars. The two of them could get on with their lives without a cloud hanging over their heads.

He just hoped that he could find the clue that would set them free.

Everett bent his head over the pictures again, trying to go over them with an eagle eye. Maybe this time, he would see something that he'd missed before.

With any luck, something, _anything_ , would jump out at him and send him down the right path. All it would take was one clue -- and he was sure that it _had_ to be there.

If it wasn't, then he and Will were running out of options.


	38. Fight Or Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett isn't sure just how Will is going to take the suggestion of leaving Wolf Trap.

Everett sighed softly, glancing over at Will.

He had a proposition to put to the other man, and he hoped that Will would accept it. He hadn't been sure that he should ask, but he felt as though he needed to.

They had to get away from Wolf Trap. He didn't feel safe here, and he didn't think that Will did, either. And they _weren't_ safe. Not as long as Hannibal was out there.

If they went to his home in London, then it would be harder for Hannibal to get to them. He could follow them, of coures, but somehow, Everett didn't think he would. He was sue that Hannibal wouldn't be able to get away from his practice; after all, he had to earn his living, didn't he?

Will could take a sabbatical from his teaching position at the FBI Academy. Perhaps he could even work for Scotland Yard, now that he'd been exonerated of any wrongdoing.

He just wanted to get the two of them out of Wolf Trap, and out of Hannibal's reach. He would feel safer in his own home, in a place that he was used to.

But convincing Will of the need for that might not be easy.

Will would want to bring his dogs along, and of course, Everett had room for one or two of them. But all six? No, that would be impossible. Not in the middle of a busy city.

He had come to love the dogs, too, he realized, a small smile on his lips. They had become familiar to him, and he had to admit that he felt safer with them around. He knew that if anyone, even Hannibal, tried to get into the house, that the dogs would at least bark a warning.

Not only that, but they were good companions. They never complained, and they were all affectionate animals. He'd gotten used to having them all around.

No, they wouldn't be able to leave any of the dogs behind easily.

That was one stumbling block in moving to London. Or even in staying there for a short time. Everett was sure that Will wouldn't want to leave his dogs in a kennel, or even in the care of friends.

So that put something of a damper on the idea of their even spending any time in London, Everett thought, sighing again. How would he convince Will that it was the best thing to do?

Will put down the book he was reading and looked over at Everett, frowning slightly. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft. "And don't tell me nothing, Everett. You've sighed twice in the last five minutes, so I know that there's something on your mind that you don't want to talk to me about."

Everett had to laugh at that astute assessment. "You know me too well," he admitted, smiling a little. "Actually, I _do_ want to talk to you about something, Will."

Will nodded, looking serious. "What is it? You can tell me."

Of course he could. He could tell Will anything. That was one of the things that he loved about this man; he felt entirely comfortable with Will. There was no awkwardness between them.

Still, Everett knew that this wouldn't be an easy subject to approach, and he wasn't sure of what to say, how to broach the subject of leaving Wolf Trap.

He cleared his throat to speak, then hesitated, unsure of how to start this conversation.

"Everett, whatever it is, just spit it out," Will told him, his voice soft and gentle. "I'm not going to grow a second head and snarl at you. I promise. Just tell me."

Everett nodded, taking a deep breath. "Will .... I think that the two of us need to get away from Wolf Trap. Not forever -- but just for a while. I think you need to be free of Hannibal for a while, to be out of the sphere of his influence. And I think that you'd be safer if you're far away from him."

Will sighed softly, closing his eyes. "He doesn't influence me, Everett," he said, his voice steady and even ."Not any longer. I know what he is. He's a monster."

That was a good sign. Everett let out the breath he'd been holding; Will obviously didn't have any kind of fascination with Hannibal. That was one worry taken care of.

But what did he think about the idea of leaving Wolf Trap, even temporarily?

That was what Everett was most worried about. He didn't want this idea -- which they didn't have to act on, of course -- to drive a wedge between the two of them.

"I don't know how easy it's going to be for us to be away from this place," Will said, sounding thoughtful. "I mean, I'd have to find somebody to take care of the dogs. I doubt your place in London is big enough for more than a couple of them at the most. But you're right. We need to get away."

Everett blinked, almost unable to believe what he was hearing. He'd expected Will to be completely against the idea -- and here he was, agreeing with him.

 _That_ was completely unexpected, but very welcome. And reassuring.

"We can take a couple of the dogs with us," Everett said slowly, hoping that Will would agree with him. "I hope that someone here would be willing to keep the rest of them until we get back."

Privately, he hoped that they wouldn't have to come back; what he wanted to do was to find a house in the suburbs of London where they could keep all of the dogs.

But first things first, Everett told himself firmly. First, he and Will had to make plans to leave Wolf Trap, and find a person who would take care of the dogs for them. Once they had been in London for a while, then he could bring up the possibility of Will staying there permanently.

There was no need to rush into it -- but there was every need to get away from Wolf Trap. Everett almost felt as though a trap was starting to close its jaws around them.

He didn't feel safe here -- and he didn't think that Will did, either. Hannibal presented a very real threat, one that he wanted to get away from as quickly as they could.

Once they were in London, they could discuss their next move.

"So, it's fight or flight -- and we really don't have the resources to fight at the moment," Will said, sighing. "You're right. Getting away from here would be best."

Everett nodded, finally finding his voice again. "We'll find someone to keep most of the dogs for an indeterminate amount of time. I'm sure that of all the people you know, at least one of them would be willing to do that. I wouldn't want to keep them in a kennel for too long. They wouldn't like it."

Will smiled ruefully, shaking his head. "You're right about that. So I'll start asking people tomorrow. And you can start looking into flights. The sooner, the better."

Everett could almost feel a huge weight lifting from his shoulders.

When it came to choosing fight or flight, at the moment, they were on the side of flight. They didn't really have any other choice; they needed to be better prepared before they went up against Hannibal.

But they would do just that, Everett vowed silently. They would take that monster on, and they would win. And hopefully, they would manage to put him behind bars, where he belonged.

If they didn't, then they would face even more danger than they did now.

That was something he didn't even want to contemplate, Everett thought with another soft sigh as he reached for his laptop, intending to check into flights to London.

They were already in more than enough danger, what with Hannibal obviously feeling that Will somehow belonged to him. Everett didn't doubt that there would be an explosive confrontation in the future.

All he could do was hope that he and Will would be the winners of that final battle.

Yes, they were choosing flight now, but later, they would stand and fight.

With any luck, they would find the path to victory.


	39. Searching For Clues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will vows that he and Everett won't stop searching for clues that could prove Hannibal's guilt.

Everett hadn't found any new clues. That was obvious.

Will rubbed his tired eyes, glancing around the area in front of his house. Soon, it would be too cold to sit out here in the late afternoons; it was already chilly.

How much longer would they be here? He had talked to Everett about moving to London, though he didn't know for sure yet if it would be on a permanent basis.

He wasn't sure that he wanted to live in a city permanently -- and he wasn't yet ready to give up his home here in Wolf Trap. Yes, it was far too close to Hannibal, and of course, his nemesis knew where he lived. But he was still hesitant to leave. It felt too much like running away.

One thing he had learned over the course of his life was that trying to run away from his problems only made them worse. He had to stand and face them.

If he didn't stand up for himself, if he didn't put up a fight, even a losing one, then Hannibal would think that he could be victimized -- and he wouldn't stop.

There had to be some clue that he'd let behind.

But he and Everett had both scoured all of the evidence several times. They'd both been back to several of the crime scenes, and they'd found nothing.

It was so frustrating to know that Hannibal was going to get away with all of the evil that he had perpetrated if they didn't find a way to bring his guilt to light, and stop him.

How were they supposed to do that? Will asked himself, running a hand through his dark curls, a frown of utter frustration on his face. He had no idea where to start; he'd done all that he knew how to do, and he'd kept coming up against one brick wall after another.

There seemed to be no way to prove Hannibal's guilt, not conclusively. And even though he was out of jail now, he knew that some people still suspected _him_.

Which wasn't fair, but then, life was rarely ever fair.

One thing he definitely _wasn't_ going to do was give Hannibal another chance to frame him for crimes that he hadn't committed. Which meant that he would really have no choice but to leave Wolf Trap and go away with Everett, if only for a little peace of mind.

He seriously doubted that Hannibal would try anything like breaking into his home while he was away; the man had never seemed particularly interested in the place.

If he wasn't there, then he doubted that Wolf Trap would hold any interest at all for Hannibal. At least his house would be safe from being ransacked.

Of course, he could always ask someone -- probably Jack -- to come to the house periodically and look things over, to make sure that nothing was disturbed. But nothing had been bothered during the months that he'd been in jail, so he didn't think that would be a problem.

No, they had much bigger problems than that.

At the moment, their main problem was finding _any_ proof of Hannibal's guilt, anything that could tie him to the crimes of the Chesapeake Ripper.

The bastard had managed to hide his tracks well, Will thought, his lips curling into a sneer. And he'd been thorough with his frame-up job. Hannibal had known exactly how to carry things out, just what would make Will look inescapably guilty.

Hannibal wouldn't have cared one bit if he had lost his life, if he'd been given the death penalty for crimes that he hadn't committed. He would have considered it all a huge joke.

He hated Hannibal, hated him with every bit of venom that it was possible to produce. He wanted nothing more than to see his nemesis behind bars for the rest of his life.

Losing his freedom would be a hell on earth for Hannibal.

So that was what Will wanted to condemn him to. Losing his life wouldn't be nearly enough. He wanted Hannibal to suffer for the rest of his days.

Even so, he conceded to himself, that wouldn't really be enough. He deserved to suffer for eternity for all the pain and heartache he'd caused the families of his victims.

He wasn't even thinking of himself in their number, but he knew that he had every right to. Not only had he been through hell when he'd been suffering from the encephalitis that Hannibal had induced, but he'd also had to go through losing the child he'd thought of as his adopted daughter.

He would never be able to forgive Hannibal for that. Of course, there was no _proof_ that Abigail was dead, but Will knew in his heart that she was.

He had just begun to open his heart, to feel that he had someone in his life who understood him and who he could care for, when Hannibal had taken her away from him.

And he'd done it in one of the cruelest ways possible.

The worst thing was that he'd made Will believe that he himself was the cause of her death. Even knowing that he wasn't didn't ease his guilt.

He should have been able to save Abigail, somehow. He should have figured out far sooner just what Hannibal was, how _evil_ he was, and what he was capable of. He should have been able to shield Abigail from that evil, to protect someone who was no more than a child.

But he hadn't been able to do it -- and now all of the clues that he and Everett so desperately searched for might have been destroyed, covered up forever.

They wouldn't stop searching for clues, though. They never would.

The two of them would never rest until they had Hannibal where they wanted him -- behind bars, with the entire world knowing just how evil he really was.

They wouldn't stop searching for clues, Will vowed. Not until they had Hannibal behind bars, to pay for the crimes he'd committed, and any threat to them was neutralized forever.

He just hoped that they could manage to do that.

Will sighed, standing up to go into the house. He had the definite feeling that stopping Hannibal's crime wave would be harder than it seemed. Much harder.

After all, Everett had been trying for quite a while now, and he hadn't succeeded on his own. But maybe the two of them working together could manage it.

After all, two heads were better than one, weren't they?

Will couldn't help smiling at that thought, his heart leaping. Yes, he would go to London with Everett, and they would build a new life for themselves there, as a couple.

Together, they would defeat Hannibal, and they would put their respective pasts behind them. They would keep searching for clues, and at some point, they would be rewarded.

Hannibal was going down. His freedom wouldn't last for much longer.

They'd put him behind bars, if it was the last thing either of them did.


	40. A Place of Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will knows that he has to get away from Wolf Trap for a while so he can think clearly and come at this case with fresh eyes.

It felt strange to be leaving his house.

Will paused and looked around him, taking a deep breath. He knew that he was doing the right thing; getting away from here for a while would do him good.

But it still felt like a wrench, leaving the place that had been his home, his safe haven, for the entire time he'd made a life for himself here in Wolf Trap.

Still, it wasn't a safe haven any more. Hannibal had been here, in this house. Hannibal knew where he lived, and he could easily gain entrance to the house. The dogs wouldn't try to stop him; they had long looked at that monster as a friend.

That was the entire problem, Will thought with a grimace. For far too long, he himself had considered Hannibal a friend, as well.

Well, that had been his mistake, and one that he now intended to correct. He knew very well that Hannibal had never been a friend, only a nemesis.

He wished that he'd known that before Hannibal had framed him for murder.

He was sure that between the two of them, he and Everett would manage to find proof that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper, that he was an unrepentant murderer.

At least he himself had been cleared of all suspicion, Will told himself, taking another deep breath. And now, he was getting away from Wolf Trap, at least for a while. He would be spending some time in London with Everett, and he was looking forward to it.

Winston, and one of his other dogs, Max, the Husky, were going with them. The other dogs were being taken care of by friends who were glad to have them around.

He would miss them, but he'd see them again.

This wasn't an exile, Will reminded himself. He would be back here again. He wasn't leaving Wolf Trap for good. He wasn't taking everything with him, packing up and fleeing.

He was sure that he and Everett would come back here, for a few days here and there. They would probably need to. There was a lot to be done, clues to search for.

But they had done all that they could for the moment, at least in this setting. He needed to get away from here, to go to a place where he could feel safe. Though he couldn't help but wonder if _any_ place would ever feel safe to him again.

It would be all too easy for Hannibal to cancel therapy sessions and get on a plane to London, to follow him with murderous intentions.

He'd killed so many times before. It would be easy for him to do it again.

The thought sent a shiver down Will's spine. Knowing that _he_ had been an intended victim, probably more than once, was frightening. After all the times that he had been inside Hannibal's mind at crime scenes, he knew that his enemy was remorseless -- and ruthless.

Of course, he hadn't known that it was Hannibal's mind at the time, he told himself. But he should have. It should have felt familiar to him.

Resolutely, he pushed that thought aside. He knew now that Hannibal _was_ the Chesapeake Ripper, even if no one here would believe that fact.

Everett believed him, and that was all that mattered. Together, they would unravel any clues that Hannibal had left behind, and they would prove that he was a murderer and a cannibal. They would put Hannibal behind bars for good, and then get on with their lives together.

And then, only then, would he feel safe.

Will shivered again, wondering if that was true. Even behind bars, he had the feeling that Hannibal would be a formidable enemy to have.

There was no telling how far his reach might go. Though Will was sure that he worked alone, there might be people who would be willing to help him carry out any evil plans he might make. It was terrifying to think that he might be able to kill even from prison.

At least once he was behind bars, his reach could only extend so far. That was what they hoped, anyway. Will wanted desperately to believe those words.

But were they true? Would Hannibal still be able to continue his reign of evil from a prison cell? Will hoped not; that was the last thing he needed to deal with.

He just wanted all of this to be over, for Hannibal to be brought to justice.

How long would it take for that to happen? he asked himself with a soft sigh. It didn't seem that it was going to be possible at any time in the near future.

He couldn't let himself think that way, Will told himself sternly. If he let himself believe that they were defeated already, then it could turn out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. No, he had to stay optimistic; he had to believe that the two of them could bring Hannibal down.

Going to London would be good for him. He needed to be somewhere far away from his nemesis, some place where he could concentrate on finding the clues to vanquish Hannibal for good.

He'd feel a lot better once that goal had been accomplished.

For now, he was leaving Wolf Trap, though not for good, and starting a new chapter of his life. A chapter that would include Everett.

His heart rate sped up at the thought of the other man, and his lips quirked in a smile. Going to London was just what they needed to move their relationship along.

Everett hadn't been involved with anyone since Hannibal had brutally murdered his fiancé, and Will had never been with anyone. So they were both caught in a sort of time warp, just waiting to meet the person who would free them, almost like Sleeping Beauty's kiss from a handsome prince.

Was Everett his prince? Will supposed that he would find out in time. It seemed as though he was -- and if that were the case, then Will wouldn't turn him away.

Though of course, their time in London would be twofold. They wouldn't just be try to move their relationship forward -- they would be searching for clues to Hannibal's past.

And they would be actively trying to orchestrate his downfall.

They would manage it, somehow. Will took yet another deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. There was a way. And between the two of them, they would find it.

Will straightened his shoulders, gathering his courage. He had already packed two suitcases; he was ready to go, and even though he didn't know how long he would be in London, he had a feeling that going there was the best thing he could do for himself at this point in time.

He needed to get away from Wolf Trap, away from the place where he'd spent time with Hannibal. Maybe in a new place, he could look at all of this with fresh eyes.

And maybe he would find the clue he needed to win this cat-and-mouse game.

He hoped so. Because he had the distinct feeling that if they didn't find that clue soon, he and Everett would be in more danger than they could have ever imagined.

That thought sent a shiver down his spine, one that he tried to ignore. He and Everett _would_ come out on top in this game. They had no choice but to triumph over Hannibal.

If they didn't, Hannibal's evil would continue to run rampant.

They couldn't allow that to happen. And they wouldn't. Will ran a hand through his tousled curls, leaning down to pick up his suitcases.

Only a few more hours, and he, Everett, and the two dogs would be on a plane bound for London. His new life would begin in earnest once they were at Everett's home.

He would welcome that life, a place of safety, with open arms.

But first, he had to get away from here. He had to leave his old life behind.

Will made his way down the stairs, determined to do just that.


	41. A Clean Getaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett contemplates the past and the future that he and Will have together while they're on a plane headed to London.

It felt as though they'd made a clean getaway.

Everett leaned back in his seat on the plane, looking over at Will as the other man slept, a small smile curving his lips as he watched his boyfriend.

Will looked so young and defenseless in sleep, so vulnerable. But Everett knew that there was a core of strength in the other man that people didn't generally see.

There had to be a thread of steel running through Will for him to survive all that he'd gone through. Most people would have given up when they'd been framed for murders they hadn't committed and been thrown in jail, with hardly any hope of ever seeing freedom again.

But Will had never done that. He had fought for his rights, proclaiming his innocence, and he hadn't let himself sink into despair.

And now, the two of them were starting a new life, far away from the place where Will had endured so much, and had undoubtedly been in a great deal of danger.

Far away from Hannibal Lecter.

Though Everett didn't doubt that Hannibal would try to follow them, and that he wasn't going to leave Will alone to live his live happily, Everett thought, his smile turning to a frown.

He already knew that Hannibal wasn't a man who would back down when he considered that something -- or some _one_ \-- belonged to him. He would keep pursuing Will, even if it meant putting his practice on hold and coming to England to stalk the two of them.

He and Will had to be prepared for that. Everett knew that he would be. He wasn't going to let himself be taken by surprise again. Once had been more than enough.

And they would have some protection in the dogs.

Though he wondered how little Buster could be regarded as a dog who could protect anyone, he thought with a smile and a soft chuckle.

At the last minute, the people who had said that they would happily take Buster and make a home for him hadn't been able to do so, and Will had insisted on bringing the little dog with them. He wasn't going to just abandon any of his pets, or take them to a shelter.

They had also decided to keep Sam, the spaniel mix, with them, and the couple who had adopted him had agreed to take Max the Husky instead. 

They'd been happy with Max, and Everett privately thought that a bigger dog suited them. Though he had also thought that Max would have been a good guard dog for himself and Will.

Ah well, he had to admit that he liked the dogs they had.

He'd actually liked _all_ of them, he thought to himself, smiling again. The dogs had formed a bond with him that he hadn't expected; they had probably realized just how much he cared about Will, and they had known that he had the same objective in mind that they did.

That objective was to keep Will safe, whatever it took. The dogs seemed determined to do that, and now, he was as well. Nothing would happen to Will on their watch.

Winston in particular seemed to be something of a guardian angel for Will, in canine form. Everett liked the way that the dog almost seemed to look after Will, making sure that the other man was always under guard, seeming to watch him with knowing, protective eyes.

He loved Winston for that, for watching over Will so carefully.

From a person who hadn't owned a dog since he was a child, now he was going to have three of them around, Everett thought, the smile still on his lips. But he didn't mind.

He liked dogs, and he particularly liked Will's dogs. They had all seemed to like him, too; by the time they had left Wolf Trap, he'd known that he would miss them.

Still, they were bringing his particular favorite along with them. Winston seemed to feel that _he_ was someone who needed protecting, too; the dog had taken to watching him and following him around almost as much as he did Will.

It was a good feeling, knowing that you were loved by a dog. They gave such unconditional affection that a person couldn't help but return the feeling.

And it was an even better feeling to be loved by a wonderful man.

Everett took Will's hand in his own, feeling a peace that he hadn't known while he was in Wolf Trap descending over him, wrapping around his heart.

He and Will would make a good life for themselves in London. It remained to be seen if they would go back to Wolf Trap, but he didn't think that would happen. If they did, it wouldn't be for a very long time to come. He was fairly certain of that, if of nothing else.

He was also certain that he and Will would be happy together. It didn't matter where they lived, as long as they had each other. That was the only thing that really mattered.

Will would get used to living in the city. He really had no other choice.

If they'd stayed in Wolf Trap, Everett knew that Hannibal would have come after them. His hubris would make him feel that he had to do so.

They would have been in increasing danger the longer they'd stayed there. And eventually, it would have come down to a physical battle between Hannibal and the two of them.

Everett knew that even though it would have been two against one, it would have been dubious whether or not he and Will could have survived. After all, he wasn't the kind of man who was used to fighting physically, and he seriously doubted that Will was, either.

Though he was sure that his boyfriend could take care of himself, he felt much better now that they were getting out of the line of fire.

Still, making a clean getaway from Wolf Trap didn't mean that there wasn't still some danger around them, he thought with a soft sigh. This wasn't the end, by any means.

Hannibal wasn't going to simply let them live their lives in peace.

Yes, they'd made a getaway -- but Everett knew that their enemy would come after them. They couldn't live in peace until Hannibal was behind bars.

Or better yet, until he was gone from this world, Everett thought grimly. That was more than likely what it would take for Hannibal to be eradicated from their lives -- because even in jail, he could find ways to bedevil them. He was a resourceful man; Everett already knew that too well.

At least they had taken the first step to freeing themselves from him by coming to London. And Will would be marginally safer in a city that Everett knew like the back of his hand.

They would make a new life here. A good life.

He closed his eyes, twining his fingers through Will's. There was still quite a while to go before the plane would land at Heathrow, and he needed to sleep, too.

At least there was nothing that Hannibal could do to them while they were on the plane. They had escaped from Wolf Trap safely, and he could relax for the moment.

Everett smiled at that thought, feeling hopeful for the future.

They'd made a clean getaway, and that gave him hope. They _could_ defeat Hannibal Lecter, and they would. They just had to link him irrefutably to all of his crimes.

Once they did that, they would be able to put him in jail, where he belonged. And then he and Will could go on with their lives, with nothing from the past clouding their future.

After a while, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep as they left Will's old life further behind.


	42. Put Away the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's a stranger to London, but Will knows that his future lies here -- with Everett.

"Have you ever been to London before?" Everett asked Will, glancing at his boyfriend as the two of them left the customs area and headed for the taxi stand.

Will shook his head, almost ashamed to admit that he'd never been to this city before. "I've been overseas, but never to London. This is all new to me." 

Everett smiled at him reassuringly, taking his hand.

"Well, it won't be new for long," he said, his tone confident. "You'll soon get used to London, Will. I'm sure you will. I think you'll come to love this city."

Will nodded, hoping that what Everett said was true. He was never comfortable in large cities; he had never liked being in DC, or in Baltimore.

He was much more comfortable in a place like Wolf Trap, where he was isolated and he didn't feel that he was surrounded by people, blocked in by glass and concrete and the press of humanity. A place where he felt that he could breathe freely, and be himself.

Wolf Trap, and being in the country, suited him much better than being in London, in a place where he was a complete stranger. He doubted that he would feel at home here.

But he was going to give it his best shot, Will told himself firmly. Everett was right; he had needed to leave Wolf Trap behind, to start a new life.

And his best bet had been to get out of the country.

Giving up his job with the FBI had been hard. He hadn't wanted to do it; he had wanted to stick around and find some way to bring Hannibal to justice.

But that wasn't something he could do alone, and Will knew that it would be nearly impossible for him to prove how Hannibal had framed him for the Chesapeake Ripper murders. Of course, he'd been exonerated, but there would always be people who viewed him with suspicion.

He could still have a career with the FBI. He didn't doubt that. He could have stayed in Wolf Trap and put his life back together. But he hadn't wanted to.

He had wanted to be with Everett, and he'd made his choice. And now, he had another burning desire, one that he was determined to accomplish.

He was going to help Everett prove that Hannibal was a killer.

Hearing Everett's story about what Hannibal had done to the man he'd been in love with had horrified Will, but it hadn't surprised him. Not at all. He knew what Hannibal was, and it didn't shock him to find out that Hannibal had been killing long before Will had met him.

He had probably been killing for his entire life, Will thought. He didn't know what had started it, but he did know that Hannibal's string of murders had to be stopped.

Too many innocent people had already lost their lives at Hannibal's hands. He and Everett couldn't let this go on. They had to find a way to prove him guilty.

Maybe being here in London, living in a new place, away from everything that he was used to, would give him a fresh perspective. Maybe he had grown complacent, gotten too used to his life as it was. Maybe he needed this, needed something to shake him up a bit.

He'd had to get away from Hannibal. He knew that.

Of course, it was very possible that Hannibal would follow him here, too, Will told himself. In fact, he probably would. Hannibal wasn't one to simply give up.

Will knew that he and Everett hadn't seen the last of their nemesis, but at least coming here had probably bought them a bit of time before they had to confront him again.

Right now, he felt like the proverbial stranger in a strange land, but he'd felt the same way when he had first moved north from New Orleans to head to Quantico. It wasn't until he'd found the house in Wolf Trap that he had felt gounded, as though he belonged somewhere.

He would feel that way again, he assured himself. It would just take some time. Anyone would feel a little adrift when they first arrived in a completely new place.

And this time, he wasn't alone. Everett was by his side.

He needed this. He needed to be here in London, in a new place, to have new experiences. He needed to turn his back on the life he'd lived before.

Parts of that life had been good, yes. But if he was honest with himself, it had also been a very isolated life, and a very lonely one. He didn't have to be lonely any longer.

He had Everett now. _Lonely_ wasn't a word that ever had to enter into his assessment of his personal life again. He was sure that their relationship was going to go the distance, that they were going to be together for all of their lives, and beyond into eternity.

The way he felt about Everett was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, and even if the felt some trepidation about moving to a new place, at least he had a guide.

He didn't have to feel his way along in the darkness until he found what felt right. This already felt right; he was right where he needed to be.

And more, he was where he _wanted_ to be.

Somehow, Will had the feeling that London would come to be more of a home to him than Wolf Trap had ever been. He could be more at ease here. He could be free.

Free from the worries that had plagued him when he worked for the FBI. Free from the feeling that Hannibal was always there, in the background, silently watching him and waiting for the best time to pounce. Free from feeling that he had to constantly look over his shoulder.

Yes, this was a new place for him, and he was a stranger to this city. But at the same time, it felt almost like a sort of homecoming. A new beginning.

That was what he had needed for a long time now.

"Ready to go home, love?" Everett asked him, smiling and holding out a hand. Will took that hand, twining their fingers together and returning the smile.

"Yes, I am," he answered, his voice very soft. "I've been ready for a long time." Right now, that was all he wanted; to go home with his love, to settle in, and to begin feeling as though this city was a place that he could fit into. A place that he could truly call home.

If he was brutally honest with himself, Wolf Trap hadn't felt that way in a while. Not since Hannibal had come into his life. He didn't feel safe there any more.

Here, he _would_ feel safe. He was sure of it.

Not only safe, but loved as well, he thought as Everett's fingers squeezed his gently. That was something that he never would have felt if he'd stayed in Wolf Trap.

It was time for him to put away the past, and look to the future. And with Everett in his life, Will knew that would be easy for him to do. He wouldn't be alone.

He could walk into the future with a light heart.

He pushed all thoughts of the past out of his mind as they moved out into the sunshine.


	43. A New Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will gets his first look at Everett's London flat -- and likes what he sees.

Everett smiled as he opened the door to his flat, standing aside so that Will could enter. "Welcome home," he said, his voice very soft.

Will moved into the living room, looking around, his blue eyes large. Winston came along with him, the dog sniffing the air, then yapping softly.

He hadn't expected the place to be so nice.

He'd expected a small apartment, something dark, maybe with wood paneling and small windows. But it wasn't like that at all. It wasn't dark and depressing.

The flat was open and airy, sunshine seeming to fill every corner of the room. The living room was done in shades of blue and green, accented with creamy eggshell-colored curtains and soft throw pillows on the couch and in the soft leather easy chairs.

Everett's desk was in one corner of the room, close to the sliding doors that Will knew led out to a terrace. It was an elegant, quiet, yet cheerful room.

And somehow, it already felt as though he belonged here.

"I love it," he said with a smile, turning to look at Everett. "It's .... welcoming, somehow. More than my house in Wolf Trap probably was," he said, smiling a little wryly.

He had never intended for his house to be welcoming. It had always been more like a place of refuge for him, somewhere that he could feel safe and protected, hiding from the world. It was meant to be isolating, to keep people out, not to let them in.

But he didn't need that any more. His entire life had changed -- and from the looks of what he had walked into, it had definitely changed for the better.

For some reason, this already felt like home.

"Make yourself comfortable," Everett said with a smile as he set down their suitcases by the door. The cab driver had already helped to bring their luggage up the front walk.

Will couldn't help smiling as he sat down on the soft, pale blue couch; it was much more comfortable than the sagging couch in his own living room had been. Of course, this one was much better quality; his had come from the local Goodwill store.

For a moment, just a fleeting second, he felt as though he was a guest in a place that was too grand for him, a child on the outside, forever looking in.

But he pushed that thought away, refusing to countenance it. Of course he belonged here. Everett wanted him here; and more than that, he _wanted_ to be here.

This was home from now on, for both himself and Winston. He would miss the wide-open spaces of Wolf Trap; he would miss the lake where he had gone fishing, miss the countryside changing colors in the fall, and in a way, he would also miss the quiet and the privacy.

But he would get used to being here in London. He was sure that he would come to love this city -- and this beautiful home that Everett had gladly welcomed him into.

He belonged with Everett now. His old life was behind him.

For another brief moment, he wondered if Winston would miss the other dogs, and being able to run free in the woods around Wolf Trap.

All he had to do was look at the dog to know that Winston would be happy wherever he was. He had already collapsed on the round woven rug on the hardwood floor in front of the fireplace, waving all four paws in the air contentedly as Everett knelt to scratch his belly.

No, Winston would have no problems adapting. And Everett had already told him that there was a dog park close by where they could take the dog for a run.

This was best for both of them. They'd needed to get away.

The thought that Hannibal was still out there, roaming around freely, and that he could come to London at any time sent a chill down Will's spine.

How long would it be before Hannibal showed up here? He knew that the other man somehow felt that Will "belonged" to him; he didn't doubt that Hannibal would turn up here and try to claim him, to force him back to Wolf Trap -- and that people would die as a result.

He straightened his shoulders resolutely, pushing that thought away. No. No one would die. He and Everett would find evidence that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper.

Somehow, they would put the real criminal behind bars.

"Would you like to see the upstairs?" Everett asked him, smiling and holding out a hand. "I have two bedrooms, but I was hoping that you would like to .... errr ...."

He blushed, and Will laughed softly as he stood up and took the other man's hand. "Of course I want to share a bedroom with you," he said, his voice very soft. "I want to fall asleep in your arms every night, and wake up there every morning. I can't imagine not doing that."

The brilliant smile that illuminated Everett's handsome features told him that the other man felt the same, and he felt his heart thump in his chest.

Tonight, they would share Everett's bed for the first time.

What would happen between them tonight? He didn't think that they would make love, not after the long flight -- but anything could happen. The future was wide open.

He climbed the steps to the upstairs bedrooms side by side with Everett, eager to explore his new home and to settle in. He already liked the place.

He felt comfortable here. This was indeed where he belonged.

This was his home now, more than any other place had ever been.


	44. From Dream To Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's new life in London with Everett seems like a dream to him. But he's determined to turn that dream into something concrete and real.

Will stared into the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection.

This all seemed like a dream. It was hard to believe that he had given up his job with the FBI, his home in Wolf Trap, and he was here in London now.

He was here with Everett. This was his new home, here in Everett's house. He already liked it here; the place had a feeling of comfort and opulence that Everett's work as a lawyer had won for him. It was nothing like the house in Wolf Trap, but that was a good thing.

Will knew that he had to leave his old life behind him; he could retain the good memories of it, and do away with the bad ones. He didn't need them.

Though he knew that he was still in danger, even here.

He didn't doubt that Hannibal would follow the two of them. Hannibal, in his twisted, perverted mind, saw Will as being _his_. And he didn't give up easily.

The thought made Will shudder. He wished that he had never been forced to have anything to do with Hannibal Lecter; being foolish enough to think that such a monster was his friend had nearly been his undoing. He wished that part of his life hadn't happened.

Hannibal had nearly taken everything away from him -- firstly, his freedom, and nearly his sanity and his life. That was _not_ a friend. Not at all.

But at least Jack seemed to believe him now when he insisted that Hannibal was evil, that he was indeed the Chesapeake Ripper and that he had to be stopped.

Still, he hadn't been able to stay in Wolf Trap. He didn't doubt that Hannibal could find him here in London, too, but at least here, he was in a city full of people. He wasn't isolated, out in the middle of nowhere by himself with no company and no protection but his dogs.

Will smiled at the thought of his pets. They'd all gone to good homes, and the one who had come with them were asleep in their baskets downstairs.

He felt safe here -- at least as safe as he could be in the circumstances.

He hoped that the dogs felt the same way. He wanted to believe that he was far better off here, with Everett, than he would have been if he'd stayed where he was.

Closing his eyes, Will leaned on the edge of the sink and took a deep breath. He was here in London now. This wasn't a dream; it was his reality. This was his new life, the life he had chosen for himself, and he wanted to make it a good life. A happy one.

He _would_ do that, he told himself firmly. He would lift this new life out of the realm of dreams, and make it a concrete reality, not just a fantasy.

Smiling, he turned off the light and padded down the hallway to the bedroom.


	45. New Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett finds his desire for revenge slipping away as he contemplates the new life he's starting with Will.

Everett took a deep breath, watching the doorway.

At any moment, Will was going to walk through that door, and they would spend their first night together here in the home that they would make their own.

It wasn't the same flat that he'd lived in before, when he had been happily engaged to another man and hadn't yet known that Will existed. That was another life, and it was one that he didn't want to go back to. But the door on that life hadn't closed quite yet.

He still needed closure for what had happened. Everett didn't like to think of it as revenge, but that was more or less what he was looking for.

He _had_ to prove Hannibal Lecter's guilt.

Once he did that, then he and Will could start their life together without having to look back at their pasts. They could build anew, start fresh.

That was what they were starting to do now, he told himself firmly. Yes, they still had to reconcile pieces of the past, but they were building the foundation for a future together. A future that had started on the day they'd met, and had blossomed incredibly quickly.

It still amazed him how hard he had fallen, and how unexpectedly.

He hadn't intended to fall for Will, but it had happened. When he'd gone to America, he had only wanted to defined a man he knew was being framed.

Something had happened the first time that he'd looked into Will's eyes. That direct blue gaze, so honest and refreshing, had captured him right from the start.

He hadn't been able to look away -- nor had he wanted to.

The memories of the past had seemed to fade away in that first moment that their eyes had met. Yes, he still wanted closure for the past, but he no longer had that burning desire to exact revenge on the architect of all his unhappiness. Meeting Will had changed that.

He had to hold on to the good memories from the past, rather than remember the horrors that had overtaken the life he had led at one point.

Holding on to the horror would only be letting Hannibal win.

He and Will would still manage, somehow, to put Lecter behind bars. They'd do that for the good of society, to protect more innocent people from certain death.

But the thirst for revenge was receding the longer that he knew Will. He no longer had a hole in his heart that needed to be filled; the memories of the past would remain, but they would age and mellow. Will was his future, and it was future that he fully embraced.

He looked up as Will appeared in the doorway, smiling and holding out his hand to the man he loved, his expression welcoming -- and inviting.

It was time for the two of them to make some new memories.


	46. Whenever It Happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is terribly nervous about the prospect of making love with Everett for the first time, but his mind is quickly set at ease.

Will swallowed hard, forcing a smile to his face, though his heart was beating erratically, and his feet seemed to be rooted to the spot by the door.

He had never been so nervous in his life. What was going to happen between them tonight? Did Everett expect hi m to be ready to make love?

He didn't know what to expect, or what he should do.

Taking an experimental step forward, Will let out a shaky laugh and held his arms out to his sides, palms up. "I don't know why I'm so nervous," he murmured, shaking his head.

Everett smiled softly, holding out his arms to Will. "I do," he said, his voice very soft. "You're thinking that I might expect things of you that you aren't ready for yet."

Will's blue eyes widened; he was amazed to realize that his boyfriend was so perceptive. "It's not that I don't want to, you know," he said, his gaze on the floor, feeling ashamed of himself. "I love you, Everett. You know that. I wouldn't be here with you if I didn't love you."

Everett nodded; his arms were still outstretched, his smile not fading. "I do know that, Will," he said, his voice still soft. "And I love you, too. Come here, and let's talk a bit."

Will did as Everett asked, advancing until he was sitting on the bed, stil feeling nervous and even a little shaky. He let Everett take his icy cold hands into those warm ones.

He gazed into those pale eyes, hoping that Everett wasn't annoyed with him.

Everett raised one hand to touch Will's cheek, smiling as he stroked the other man's curls back from his face, their gazes locking and holding.

"Will, I understand that this has all happened very quickly," he said softly, his tone warm and loving. "I don't expect anything from you tonight, sweetheart. I think that it's enough for us to be able to sleep in the same bed and simply hold each other. More would be overdoing it."

Will nodded, relieved at Everett's words. "It's not that I don't want to, he said again, sounding apologetic. "It's just .... I need time to get used to all of this."

Everett nodded, still gazing into Will's eyes.

"And I understand that," he said. There was no hint of annoyance or impatience in his voice. "This is a new place for you, Will. An entirely new life. You need time to take it all in."

Will nodded, feeling tears come to his eyes. Everett understood. He wasn't going to push for more than Will was ready to give. It was going to be okay.

"This is only your first night here," Everett continued. "I know that you're still feeling unsettled -- and that even though you want this new life, you're probably still feeling a bit sad about leaving behind all that you were used to in the past. That's never an easy thing to do."

"You're right about that," Will said with a sigh. "I _do_ want to be here with you, Everett. But it was so hard to give up the home I'd had for so long."

"We'll make a new home, love," Everett said, still speaking softly and gently. "I want you to be happy here. I don't want you to have any regrets."

Will shook his head firmly, denying the words. "I don't have a single regret about being here with you," he said, his voice strong and firm. "I made the right decision."

Everett leaned forward and brushed his lips over Will's, softly, gently. "Then let's not talk about this any longer," he said, his voice a whisper. "Let's just go to sleep."

Will nodded, still feeling a little nervous. Yes, they had slept in the same bed before, at the house in Wolf Trap. They'd done it many times; he was used to the curves and hollows of Everett's body. He knew that they fit well together, that he was comfortable in this man's arms.

But somehow, being here in a new place, everything felt strange and different. The only thing that was the same was what he felt for this man.

He loved Everett, and he always would, he told himself. There was no reason to feel that a barrier had sprung up between them simply because they were now in a different home.

He wasn't going to let such a small thing come between them in any way.

Will pulled back the covers, slipping underneath them and turning to Everett. He rested his head against the other man's shoulder, sliding his arms around Everett's waist.

And then, somehow, everything was right again. The tension and the strangeness all seemed to melt away within seconds; he was right where he belonged, within the loving circle of Everett's arms, feeling his boyfriend's heart beating under his ear.

Why had he felt so nervous? Why had he thought, for even one fleeting second, that things had changed between them? That had been silly, and childish.

Nothing had changed. They were the same people they'd always been.

There was nothing in the world that could possibly feel as good to him as lying here in Everett's arms did. It didn't matter where they were.

These arms would always be his home. London, Wolf Trap, or anywhere else they might be, when he was with Everett, he was right where he belonged.

This was where he always wanted to be, he thought with a smile. Right here, in Everett's arms, wherever they might happen to be. It didn't matter that they hadn't been closer than this in the physical sense. It was coming, and when it happened, it would be utterly glorious.

Whenever that happened -- and Will knew that it would -- they would both be completely ready for it. There was no need to jump the gun. It would take place in time.

He would look forward to that day, but he wasn't going to worry about when it would happen. He didn't need to. It would occur naturally, when the time was right for both of them.

He smiled as he snuggled into Everett's embrace, feeling warm and loved.

"What are you thinking about, love?" Everett asked him, pressing a gentle kiss to Will's forehead. "You're smiling, so I know that they must be happy thoughts."

Will tilted his head upwards, smiling into his boyfriend's eyes. What was he thinking about? That was an easy question to answer. The words were on the tip of his tongue.

The one thing that he _could_ possibly think about at this moment in time.

"You," he said, his voice soft and loving. "I'm thinking about you."

**Author's Note:**

> This series was inspired by a challenge in one of my LJ comms. The challenge was to be given a random name, create a character for a TV show, give them a brief background, explain how they fit into the show, and cast them. Keeping in mind that the names were completely random, somehow I managed to get Everett Hobbs, which obviously fit in well with Hannibal! I couldn't resist taking the idea further and actually starting a fic series for Will/Everett. (Willett? Everill? Not sure what their pairing name would be.) Here's the background I made for Everett:
> 
> Character Background: Everett is a relative of Abigail and Garret Jacob Hobbs from Britain. He's a lawyer who comes into the show to work pro bono on Will Graham's case. Despite knowing that Will killed Garret Jacob Hobbs, Everett also knows that GJH was a murderer and has no malice towards Will for the killing. He is determined to prove that Will didn't murder Abigail, and to find the real killer. He's also gay, and falls in love with Will as they talk about the case. He seems to have a grudge against Hannibal, and the few times they meet in passing, is short almost to the point of rudeness with him. Will has quite a few questions about Everett that no one seems to be able to answer, though he can't stop himself from falling for the quiet, mysterious Englishman. Why is Everett so determined to prove him innocent? And why does he have such animosity towards Hannibal? What is their past connection? After Will and Everett share their first forbidden kiss while Everett is counseling Will in jail, There's no turning back for either of them.
> 
> My casting choice for Everett was Benedict Cumberbatch (come on, you already knew that, didn't you?) - here's a pic of what I imagine him looking like when he and Will first meet:
> 
> Be warned: This will probably end up being a VERY long series. I hope anyone who chooses to read enjoys it, and stays with the boys until the end of the ride!


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